I cannot stop thinking about him.
Last night we kissed in the parking lot, purposefully irritating the woman in the car waiting for his spot. He could see her, I could not. The devilish grin and the merriment in his eyes as he whispered to me her frustration only served to make me tarry further, daring her to object. We were but days into exploring being a couple...how could one protest a lingering good bye kiss?
Breaking apart we giggled as if in high school, with a quelling look the woman took another lap around the lot. "What a partner in crime you'd make," he said, his voice soft with wistfulness. We said our goodbyes for real that time, and I willed myself not to chide him that I needed to see him again before he left on a trip. I would enjoy the here and now, not the days to come.
It's a bit harder than I thought; waking to a "Good Morning 😘" text when I'd rather roll over and have my hand in his hair. Yet these days are ones to savor; why can it not be as with my motherhood that today is the best day? As we discover more and more how compatible we are, shouldn't those discoveries have celebrations of their own?
I had begun quietly dating after the divorce; the King knew of it and had not protested. Early on I met a man who ticked every box and was crazy about me; it was the only time I ever ran. In my dating life he became known as The One Who Shall Not Be Named; I was embarrassed to have cut and run. I soon enough came to care deeply for another who guided me through the bumps of early divorce, my children met him and I hoped for more. Looking back, I see now the bullet I dodged. While I loved Five, I wasn't in love. He wouldn't let us fall; he knew the secrets he hid would eventually come to light and I'd leave. Our final argument he proved just how well he knew me by pressing every hot button I had; it broke my heart to learn he knew me as well as the King.
Passion hallmarked the start of every new relationship; often blinding me to true compatibility. The wiser men broke it off quickly, knowing a fire so hot rarely had staying power (much as I had done with The One Who Shall Not Be Named.) As time went on I determined to get to know someone first before we met, so the Colonel? It was six weeks of daily hours' long chats before we met, when we had several dates over a weekend. When he returned weeks later I had indulged myself by falling for him...sliding down that slope just days before he reappeared. Our reunion was sweet; as we lay entwined on the couch showing each other our favorite YouTube videos, I couldn't imagine a better man to fall for. Until he disappeared two days later...and my heart was obliterated. He had, however, left his hat....
Rushing. Every relationship, every disappointment, every regret....all from rushing. Desperate to have a partner, desperate to be loved.
As 2017 dawned, I swore off dating apps, including my beloved Bumble. I had learned how to harvest a crop, cull and winnow it, and have a very entertaining few weeks. Not so in the new year-I would not harvest a crop until I had cleared out the remnant from 2016. There were a few guys on deck that I had dated in the past that still occasionally came around, and two I had chatted with but hadn't yet met. I purposed in my heart that five was more than enough...especially when one was a ghosted LTC. Soon after the New Year, R2 and I decided to forever be friends. One down, four to go. I finally meet Cassian; there was no spark but a mutual geekdom love of Star Wars. Pizza and a movie became a favorite ritual, and I helped him finish the renovations on his house. It was fun to have a new friend, but there was never going to be more. Two down.
As expected, the Sheriff reappeared, but as also expected, for only a week. Three down, and it wasn't even February! By now I had all but given up on the LTC, and had pushed that hurt as far away as I could. The final weekend in January I had a first date that had been seven weeks in the making; Supercross and dinner at The Yard House. With the Buckeye.
He had warned me he'd have little time for dating; that was fine as I was gearing up for Ride's Scottsdale launch. As first dates go it was a blast-except for the pulled flexor muscle from a hike earlier that day and my inability to walk after the event. He handled my discomfort with thinly veiled frustration, but remained pleasant as I did my best not to complain about some of the worst pain in my life. In the end, the goodnight kiss was sweet...and I agreed to see him again.
That only took three weeks.
In the meantime, the Sheriff had come around again, begging forgiveness as always. Once again, it lasted a week. This time, I said it was the last time, and closed the door for good. A week later I had an invitation to a basketball game the Buckeye coached...so I went.
I can say it was at the first Special Olympics basketball game that his quiet influence on me began. I loved the game, and was jealous of the players. They all got to play...something this gangly, uncoordinated left-eye dominate, right-handed girl never got to do. We stood in the parking lot chatting after, and our good night kiss lingered. Pulling back, I laughing asked him why we hadn't seen each other the past few weeks when that, so obviously, had been really good. His mischievous grin hinted at something, and he reminded me I had postponed our second date to tomorrow. I went home smiling, glad that technically, only the Buckeye remained. I had decided to take the Colonel's Hat on a wee adventure, and amazingly my broken heart was mending well.
Our second date was to the Tilted Kilt, which made me chuckle. I'd been backed up to drinks after the full nine yards, and it made me wonder what he was up to. It turned out he had plenty to say...and I was intrigued, to say the least. He was viewing me through the filter of ten years of dating, and this outlier was challenged. I knew I was different...but would I even have a chance to prove it? His defenses were clearly up. Standing in the parking lot, we chatted by his Jeep. He had made it clear he did not need pressure, and the look on his face clearly said he doubted I was up to his standards.
It was at that moment the thought crossed my mind that I had met my match....
Driving home, some flipping 40 minutes away for me, I mulled over that fleeting whisper. I recognized the depth behind it; acknowledging it had not come from me. Carefully I cocooned it; cherishing it as a reminder that sometimes things on the surface hide a beautiful inside. The Buckeye had been blunt, and I liked it. A lot. Here were the expectations; could I meet them?
I attended every game over the following weeks, enjoying each one more as I got to know the team. At the second one I attended, he was obviously sick--it lingered for the next two-three weeks. Just as he got better, I took off for nearly two to Florida. It was to him I texted our adventures, and our nightly chats became a ritual. A date soon after our return to celebrate his birthday saw me in the hateful colors of Scarlet & Gray...but cemented the desire to keep getting to know him better. Then he got sick again.
This time it was the flu, and having suffered through it the year before my empathy was high...as was my desire to nurse. I cared for him by now, knowing the seeds had been planted for more. I also knew I didn't have the ability to overrule him...and so I patiently waited for his health to return.
What I didn't expect was for the Colonel to return instead.
The Colonel's Hat on social media had brought me tremendous healing; the morning before he came back I had told both Flyboy and Kyle I was truly over him, and cared less if I ever saw him again--and that the Buckeye was the only one left standing. For 48 hours I agonized over the LTC's messages, not knowing what to do. It was Flyboy who reminded me of my own advice to him-to tell him how I felt and to release him. Doing so produced a happiness like I had never known; having final closure was a gift only God knew I needed. So that night, when I finally saw the Buckeye again after three weeks apart? I was glowing. By our second glass of wine we had both relaxed, remembering once again how well we got a long. It was only then I truly noticed his blue eyes that he so often bragged about, as we chatted over dinner and then ice cream. After I asked him if we could next do something together other than eat...all of our dates had been dinner. He obliged by letting me tag along on a hike....
To which I was late. That, however, would then change everything.
The teasing had begun even before I was technically late; I enjoyed his good-natured ribbing. The hike was fun, despite my general unpreparedness, and as he slid down the bannister at the park stairs I caught a glimpse of a man much different than I had known. By now I knew my heart was interested...but guarded. This relationship was nothing like any other I'd experienced since my divorce. Our kisses were chaste and sweet; while full of chemical promise, neither of us had pushed it further. Had we actually allowed a friendship to develop first? I pondered it as one song in particular kept reminding me of him and the most recent date of pizza and wine.
Then I jumped out of a plane, and came to realize that rushing had been a habit of a widowed heart so long ago. Looking back over the past few months of indulging the Buckeye's "no pressure" rule, I came to see how easily I could have driven him away...and how indeed, I had driven others away. The Colonel finally figured out he could google me for my number, and began texting, asking to meet before he left for Georgia. I politely declined, telling him I was happily dating someone else. He asked if we were exclusive, and I said no. He replied then it was fine to meet him...and I said goodbye. For the final time.
I had the Buckeye over for dinner, the first in my new little cottage. Taking a page from Flyboy's book, I decided to make him a gift-a genealogy I drew up of his family. As we poured over his personal history, the history geek in both of us emerged...and it was in my new little kitchen those kisses for me changed. Walking out to the car he asked to see me again the next day...and my heart skipped a beat.
Our lunch was marred by bad news, but I saw how he handled it...and admired it. While I had planned to tell him about the colonel then (he had the full background on the social media page, and as a Marine had expressed interest in have a turn with the Army Colonel's Hat.....) I waited, knowing the timing was wrong. So to come home from lunch and a call from the Sheriff, professing his undying ardor?
Too much.
I told him what I had told the colonel just days before: I was happily dating someone. He asked me the same question the LTC had asked: was it exclusive. I told him it was not. He asked to see me. I hesitated, and told him no.
And picked up the phone immediately upon hanging up and called the Buckeye.
He shared with me then how his last serious relationship had always pushed for the next thing...and it was if every puzzle piece snapped together in an instant. All the frustrations I'd had vanished, as I saw a complete picture for the first time...and at that moment, I lowered my guard.
Just a little.
Walls. Mine were fairly new; I'd only been out dating for over a year. His were established, with reason. I thought back to my revelation of rushing, and how his gentle influence had brought clarity to so many areas of my life. I was becoming a better person due to him being in my life...not because of things he demanded or suggested I change. Watching him, I saw reflected in myself areas I needed to work on. Like rushing. Could I not stop and appreciate today?
We agreed to be exclusive...and see where this potential partnership might go. I said he needed to meet my kids, as that would be an immediate make or break, and he agreed.
So for the third day in a row, I met up with the Buckeye.
And for the third day in a row, the walls around my heart softened. Despite not having children, he knew how to be a dad. The 20 years of coaching in Special Olympics clearly showed; he had patience and a knack for knowing when enough was enough. When he asked us to meet up with him and the foster kid he mentored the next day? I knew things had changed for him, too. Our fourth day together, we took the kids to a small amusement park. As I laid back in his arms on the log ride, I relished the fact this was the first time we'd ever spooned. It was a return to my roots, this old-fashioned romance...and my heart slipped once again.
Last night we hiked, stealing kisses whenever one felt it appropriate. Our shared passion for history dominated our lively conversation; it was so easy and so enjoyable. Our conspiracy against the parking lot sharks who hunted for spaces was a mutual surprise that the other would go for it...instantly my mind leapt ahead to future adventures.
Then I stopped.
And as a woman not so patiently waited for the parking spot, I indulged in kissing a man I was beginning to fall for. His hand slipped past my waist, and I leaned in more deeply, savoring the here and now. His eyes twinkled at me, knowing how evil we were being and loving it just the same. Our evening chat a few hours later I made from my bubble bath, unable to resist teasing him with that fact. For now...right now is special. He knows not my curves, or how I like to be touched. I've not seen all of his 14 tattoos, nor have I learned the how and why of each. Right now, I know only his blue, blue eyes, the gentle touch of his hands on my hips, and lips that linger instead of demand.
Two weeks before, I had rushed to that same hiking spot, and had wished only for days of contented commitment. Realizing rushing was a lifelong tripping point changed this; how much in life do we rush past, waiting for the next best thing? At this very moment, my face lights up when his names pops up as a text. When I discover another history anecdote, there is glee and anticipation of sharing. When I stir coconut oil into my coffee, I smile knowing he doctors his the same....
Yes, it's very early. Things may change and not go that way.
But for right now?
I'm savoring every second. And hoping beyond hope he's doing the same.
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