Monday, July 31, 2006
And You Need Her Like a Drug.....
Friday night, Karen and I made plans to grab some dinner and a movie. Because of her gym schedule, our time frame was a little tight and the restuarant that we wanted to go to always has a wait. I volunteered to go down early to put our names on the list, because there's plenty of things to do to occupy one's self in Times Square. As I walked into the restaurant, lost in my own world and trying to brush off my irritation at the tourists congesting every available inch of space on the sidewalks, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find myself face to face with an absolutely gorgeous black man dressed in a beautiful suit.
"I'm sorry to bother you," he said, "but I saw you walking across the street just now and I had to come and talk to you."
Holy shit.
When I explained to him that I was putting my name down for a table to eat with a friend that wouldn't be there for an hour, he asked if he could buy me a drink while I waited.
Uh, that's gonna be a no problem.
We talk. And talk and talk and talk. I'm surprisingly comfortable around him and am at the top of my game. I'm amazed at the intensity of the connection that I am feeling with him. I can honestly say that I've never felt anything like this before. I don't know if that means anything really significant, but I am definitely reeling. He asks me when he can see me again. He wants it to be soon. Saturday or Sunday? We decide on Sunday afternoon. Before he leaves, he pulls me into an alcove and kisses me breathless.
Okay. Still breathing.
We went out last night. A quick dinner, then Miami Vice. He was very touchy/feely. Always had his hands on me somewhere. The movie was tortuous with his hand on my thigh the whole time.
After the movie, we wandered over to Bryant Park and kissed some and talked some. He makes it VERY clear to me that I am welcome to come home with him. I decline. And quite frankly, I can't believe I did. He's beautiful, charming, insanely succesful, and has a slam-dunk body. But it was too soon. I wasn't ready.
We stood on the corner, waiting for a cab for me to take home. He put his arms around me and just stared into my eyes.
Him: What are you thinking?
Me: Am I going to see you again?
Him: Do you want to see me again?
Me: I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to see you again.
Silence.
Me: I'll take that as a no.
Him: Why would you think that?
Me: Silence always means no.
Him: Don't make any assumptions.
I pull away and walk into the street to hail a cab. Deathly afraid of him seeing the fear in my eyes. The fear of having made my decision and now living with the repercussions. I'm going home and I may never see him again.
He grabs my arm and pulls me to him. He pushes my hair off my face and wraps his arms around me.
Him: We'll see each other again.
A cab stops and I get in.
Him: Call me the second you walk in your front door.
He kisses me, gives some money to the cab driver and tells him to take me home. As the cab pulls away, I am half elation and half depression. I know that I made the right decision. It wasn't a power play, I wasn't not sleeping with him just to gain control. I just wasn't ready. And I'll never regret it. And if doesn't call because I didn't put out then that just makes him a jerk.
Please God, don't let him be a jerk.
"I'm sorry to bother you," he said, "but I saw you walking across the street just now and I had to come and talk to you."
Holy shit.
When I explained to him that I was putting my name down for a table to eat with a friend that wouldn't be there for an hour, he asked if he could buy me a drink while I waited.
Uh, that's gonna be a no problem.
We talk. And talk and talk and talk. I'm surprisingly comfortable around him and am at the top of my game. I'm amazed at the intensity of the connection that I am feeling with him. I can honestly say that I've never felt anything like this before. I don't know if that means anything really significant, but I am definitely reeling. He asks me when he can see me again. He wants it to be soon. Saturday or Sunday? We decide on Sunday afternoon. Before he leaves, he pulls me into an alcove and kisses me breathless.
Okay. Still breathing.
We went out last night. A quick dinner, then Miami Vice. He was very touchy/feely. Always had his hands on me somewhere. The movie was tortuous with his hand on my thigh the whole time.
After the movie, we wandered over to Bryant Park and kissed some and talked some. He makes it VERY clear to me that I am welcome to come home with him. I decline. And quite frankly, I can't believe I did. He's beautiful, charming, insanely succesful, and has a slam-dunk body. But it was too soon. I wasn't ready.
We stood on the corner, waiting for a cab for me to take home. He put his arms around me and just stared into my eyes.
Him: What are you thinking?
Me: Am I going to see you again?
Him: Do you want to see me again?
Me: I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to see you again.
Silence.
Me: I'll take that as a no.
Him: Why would you think that?
Me: Silence always means no.
Him: Don't make any assumptions.
I pull away and walk into the street to hail a cab. Deathly afraid of him seeing the fear in my eyes. The fear of having made my decision and now living with the repercussions. I'm going home and I may never see him again.
He grabs my arm and pulls me to him. He pushes my hair off my face and wraps his arms around me.
Him: We'll see each other again.
A cab stops and I get in.
Him: Call me the second you walk in your front door.
He kisses me, gives some money to the cab driver and tells him to take me home. As the cab pulls away, I am half elation and half depression. I know that I made the right decision. It wasn't a power play, I wasn't not sleeping with him just to gain control. I just wasn't ready. And I'll never regret it. And if doesn't call because I didn't put out then that just makes him a jerk.
Please God, don't let him be a jerk.
