Establishing dating/courtship/wooing rules in any new relationship is important. I get that. Personally, I’m not one to establish rules right off; I tend to be very go with the flow and let’s see what happens when I begin to date someone I really like. Do I wonder where things may eventually go? Yeah, absolutely. Do I wonder where the boundaries lie for getting to know someone new? Of course. Do I wonder if the person I’m seeing at that moment has long-term potential? Most definitely. But I prefer to live in and enjoy the moment. Sure, I’m looking for ‘Ms. Right’ but I’ve learned enough to know that ‘Ms. Right’ may not forever be ‘Ms. Right’. So what’s more important: ‘Ms. Right Forever’ or ‘Ms. Right Now’? And more to the point: could they not be one in the same? We won’t know unless we choose to live in the moment, go with the flow and just see what happens.
All this is not to say that I let anyone walk all over me or dictate to me exactly how our new relationship will be conducted. Quite the contrary. I’m very easy going but I’m also a participant, not a puppy. When I have needs, I express them. When I have boundaries, I establish them firmly. If something isn’t working for me, I’ll step up and communicate that. But I like to wait and see what develops and address those needs and boundaries as they come up for me. I like to make the rules as I go along, rather than hand a new ladyfriend a list of do’s and don’ts on the first date or two. But that’s just me.
The One That
Got Ran Away had rules right out of the gate. Contrary to my own modus operandi, I respect the hell out of that. I know that everyone operates differently and I don’t expect anyone to follow my lead. Oh and how I do love a girl who possesses enough maturity, wherewithal and confidence to say, ‘this is what I need to get close to you’. Strength, confidence, self-awareness and character … these, to me, are very sexy traits.
One night, The One That
Got Ran Away and I chose to spend our date together in the good old fashioned American way: dinner and a movie. The weather outside was just horrid. Rain and wind turned into flooding and downed tree branches. There would be no motorcycle riding and no making out on a beautiful vista. My date and I planned to see a movie at my favorite theater. This theater has an incredible “Over-21 Only” balcony section which serves wine and cocktails. The chairs are comfy and are seated two by two with tables dividing each pair of seats. The arm rests lift up and out of the way for in-movie snuggling. I mean, seriously, if you’re going to have a movie date, this is the place to do it.
Ten minutes into the movie and we were already sitting close enough to probably make other movie goers a little uncomfortable. Now, don’t get the wrong idea: there was no funny business happening. We behaved in a perfectly respectable manner (damn it) but there was close snuggling, flirty touching, hand-holding and little whispers in each other’s ears. So much so, that I had no fucking clue as to which movie we were actually supposed to be watching. I was so thoroughly distracted by the way this girl kept lightly fingering the palm of my hand. I swear to god – the movie couldn’t end soon enough … and this is coming from a very serious film lover! (Don’t you love that phase in any new relationship when every touch, innocent or not, drives you absolutely wild? When every look, sound and touch is so delicious? Sorry, I digress.)
After the movie, we walked to the nearest convenience store to again buy a pack of “throat-raping” cigarettes. (Man, when Miss-Adventures falls off the wagon, she falls with a giant thud!) And as we walked, The One That
Got Ran Away began to speak about her “rules”, what she wanted in the future and how she felt about me.
I already knew and could feel that something special was developing between us. We had only just met but there was a strange and unidentifiable connection that completely caught me off guard. The One That
Got Ran Away told me that she had initially set out to date casually, wanted to take her time, meet lots of people and not rush into anything with anyone (boy, can I relate!). She told me that she wanted to take her time getting to know me before we consummated our fledgling relationship (she actually put me on a month-long probationary period! Wait. Seriously?). And she told me that she was struggling with the idea of resisting a relationship with me because from the moment we met, she no longer had any interest in seeing, meeting or getting to know anyone new. Oddly enough, it was exactly what I had been struggling with too. It was so lovely to hear her describe the feelings she was experiencing and knowing that I was feeling exactly the same way.
I’m going to be honest here: If the attraction is already there, I’m not a great fan of “waiting to consummate”. (Does that make me sound trampy? Shit, I think it does.) What I mean to say is that, while I respect those who do like to take their time to get to know their lovers before they become lovers, when I’m attracted to someone, I don’t worry about timing or getting to know someone so intimately before sex. (Oh god, why do I feel like I’m digging my own slutty grave here?) What I mean to say is that we’re grown-ups. If the chemistry is there and we’re both responsible adults, why the fuck should we wait a month before we begin to enjoy each other? Let’s just do what feels right and sort the rest out as we go!
(Why am I so worried now that “go-with-the-flow” sounds more like “nice to meet ya, now get yer clothes off!”? That is NOT what I’m trying to say. Oh god … I really need to move on. This tombstone already has my name written on it.)
But I did agree with The One That
Got Ran Away on one thing: from the day we met, I knew I no longer had any interest in seeing, meeting or getting to know anyone else. I had found my short skirt/long jacket. Anyone else would have paled in comparison.
The One That
Got Ran Away then began to express concerns. My ex wife and I had only been separated for 4 months up to that point. It was “so soon”. She was scared to invest in a relationship only to find out down the road and hopelessly heartbroken that she was “just a rebound”. I listened. I nodded. And then I explained as best I could, that, “Yes, I realize it seems soon.” “No, I don’t have any guarantees for you, but can you offer any guarantees to me in return?” “I know what I feel right now and it feels amazing and I’d like to continue to see where this goes.”
And so, having just gotten our first “relationship conversation” out of the way, the evening continued in the most lovely fashion. We walked back from the convenience store, stood outside in the rain, smoked and shared the sexiest of cigarette kisses.
Afterward, I drove my ladyfriend home. Neither of us wanted the evening to end and so she suggested that we pick up a bottle of wine and spend more time together. The only hitch was that her roommate had a weird rule about letting “strangers in her home”, so we would have to sit with our bottle of wine on the community balcony of her apartment complex … under an overhang … in the rain. Well, it’s obviously not my first choice, but drinking wine and kissing in the rain beats going home early and alone any day.
So with our bottle of wine, two glasses and a pack of cigarettes, we made ourselves as comfortable as we could under the overhang on the community balcony. We drank, we smoked, we talked, we laughed, we kissed and we … got very, very drunk. Or rather, I got very, very drunk. (The phrase “lightweight” doesn’t even begin to describe Miss-Adventures.)
As my date sat high on a countertop, I stood between her legs and kissed her madly. And just when I was starting to feel a bit more confident in my dating prowess, the balcony began to spin .... and it spun violently in the only way it can when one has had too much wine. And at that very moment, I realized, ohmyfuckinggod, I’m about to throw up! So I tried my best to remain calm, cool and collected; I looked straight into my date’s eyes and said, “you’re making my head spin.” (Smooth, right? Yeah, I thought so too.) I took a drag from my cigarette and then it began: I could feel my stomach begin to contract. So I took a deep, calming breath. Out of the absolute terror that I might just upchuck all over my date and while also trying to remain cool and collected, I turned around while still standing between her legs, took her hands and wrapped them around my waist and stood in a sort of back-facing hug. I took another deep breath and I could feel my stomach contract again. I was fighting this down with every ounce of strength and pride I had left inside of me. I WILL NOT BARF ON MY DATE! I WILL NOT BARF ON MY DATE! I WILL NOT BARF ON MY DATE!
So I decided to take my leave from the comforting arms of my ladyfriend and sit down. I explained to her, “I’m feeling a little drunk and very light-headed.” She followed me over to my seat and gently stroked my hair as I breathed deeply. A few minutes and several calming breaths later, and my stomach finally settled. Whew! Crisis averted! Thank the sweet baby jesus! I don’t think I could have ever gotten over the humiliation of having literally thrown up all over the girl I was beginning to fall so madly for.
Once I fully recovered, my ladyfriend and I went straight back to the kissing and heavy groping we had been so enjoying before the wine-induced nausea. And then it occurred to me: I can see inside at least twenty neighboring apartments. And if I can see them mulling about inside their apartments, then they can certainly see me and my hopelessly wandery hands! (“Wandery” is my word; you keep your ‘typo’ and ‘proper grammar’ comments to yourselves.) I’m happy to report that we were both still fully clothed (though mildly disheveled) but I can’t say that our spectacle was suitable for public viewing.
Realizing that the scene on the balcony could have easily slipped from ‘somewhat inappropriate’ to ‘down-right obscene’, and wanting to obey my ladyfriend’s rules, I mustered all the strength and will power I had to respectfully pry myself away from her tempting body and I politely told my date that I really needed to get home. I kissed her goodbye and made my way back to the other, more lonely, side of town.
After my long drive home, I crawled into bed at nearly three in the morning. Three o’clock turned to four … and four turned to five … and, well, you know the story: girl crush insomnia had its very firm grip on Miss-Adventures.