Talk about a rollercoaster of emotions, a mind fuck of a day.
Tuesday night I enjoyed an amazing and much needed evening with a man I know only a little and it was good, the stuff of bodice ripping novels and “Dear Penthouse Forum” openings. Momentary connection and release, situational opportunity. Once the jitters shook out I lapped up every second. So did he.
You should learn when to go, you should learn how to say no
By Wednesday afternoon he hadn’t called, e-mailed or sent out smoke signals. I think like a guy, understand most in our situation don’t. And like him I’m “unburdened by...puritanical guilt."
Well they get what they want, then they never want it again
Mine's a lifestyle of overdue adventurous pursuit and I like it that way. Then Wednesday morning someone else, somebody in real life, offered something more, dinner rather than lunch, and I became hopeless rather than hopeful. Because somewhere in my gut I don’t trust, don't believe any of that possible, really. And that leaves me feeling nothing but on my own.
And the sky was all violet, I want it again but more violet
Connecting physically, regardless of the steps before or after, is often more honest, definitely more fulfilling, than the cheating spouse, straying boyfriend and in-the-dark girlfriend or hopeless flirtation. So another intelligent, sexy, devious and charming man turned my head and held my attention for a week then a few hours more. I don’t care to separate his fact from fiction.
Go on take everything, take everything, I dare you to
I dare you, too.