Months have passed, spring has turned to summer and we are having some really good times together, going out for meals, dancing. A couple of weekends away when circumstances allowed.
We’ve both got kids, responsible jobs, so when we get together we enjoy ourselves, do lots of nice things, or sometimes just chill out with a takeaway, a DVD and a bottle of wine.
I can’t believe that I met her on the internet, all those horror stories, then you meet someone that ticks all your boxes and you seem to tick all hers too.
A beautiful equal, Its more than looks, its personality, intelligence, humour and similar outlooks on life.
I really really like her a lot, fancy her something terrible, she’s very attractive and has a raw sexuality about her. Its not just her looks, its in her eyes, its the way she walks, she wiggles but she’s not doing it deliberately, I love watching her from behind as her hips and bottom move together.
I’ll not even mention the dancefloor, just thinking about her dancing turns me on.
I like being out with her. She gets quite a bit of attention, I don’t even mind other guys eyeing her up. In fact I’m quite proud that she is with me.
I’m a happy boy.
If I’m totally honest with myself, she’s better looking than me, pretty face, nice hair, tall, shapely and dresses really femininely.
But I know she isn’t perfect, I’ve saw behind the mask, I’ve saw the lines on her face in the morning, the stretch marks on her tummy and her breasts have dropped a little, only natural after having three kids.
I know that she is aware of these things, I know she agonises about them. She’s spoke about getting her eyes done or a breast lift.
I know she doesn’t really want to do these things, I’ve been very reassuring, telling her that she looks good, telling her how attractive she is and that I think she is beautiful as she is.
Somehow though, I’m not sure if my reassurances have worked.
The truth is, I’m not so sure that she likes me as much as I like her.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m quite attractive, not pretty, but rugged and manly.
I know I make her laugh, confort her, advise her about the boys, when she doesn’t have anyone to speak to.
I know I’ve been there for her, I’ve been there when the demons and the tears have come in the darkness, the 2 year anniversary of her husbands death, the build up to it, family all coming and knowing I couldn’t be there, knowing that it would be inappropriate and the wrong time to meet her kids, family and friends.
I’ve been there for her, in the background, coming around later when everyone had gone home and the kids were in bed, because she needed a cuddle, needed more than a cuddle, because she needed to feel alive after all that death.
She held me and called me her Angel and for a while everything seemed good between us.
Seemed to be ..
But then one night, she has a few drinks too many, starts criticising, making issues where none existed before.
Or at least none that I was aware of. And nothing I could change anyway.
Then she asks … “When was the last time someone asked you out?”
Aaaah .. I think, Now we’re getting there.
I’m not out much without her and even then no one asks me out anyway.
Maybe thats because I’m not as attractive as her.
Maybe because I don’t go to those places.
Maybe its because I’m a guy and it never happens.
“Never” I say, the quick answer, waiting on her response. Wondering what’s on her mind.
She says “Remember I was out with the girls last week. This tall good looking lawyer asked me out’
She pauses, leaving it hanging in the air.
( Question 1 – And my response is meant to be? )
I go quiet for a second considering my reply. I don’t want to get this wrong, I’d rather get more information form her, than say something that causes her to change the subject.
“So what did you tell him?”
“I told him I was seeing someone”
I think “Someone” .. is that it? Its that your frame of reference for me? What happened to Angel?
( Question 2 – what was the point in her telling me this? What’s going in in her head? )
I wonder whats going on, but I let it go, its not the easiest of conversations, certainly not when at 2am when we’ve had a few drinks, made love and lying in bed, its not the kind of conversation that helps you sleep.
So I fool myself, change the subject, tell her how I enjoyed our night. Cuddle her and tell myself that I’m glad that everything is still okay between us and we are still a couple.
But .. its not that simple is it?
Later that week, lying in bed, awake and alone in the darkness, the conversation plays back in my mind.
I find myself asking questions.
Reasoning, Rationalising, Tormenting myself.
I am in love with her, I’ve been falling for her, but does she feel the same about me?
I’m a strong person, I’d rather walk away than delude myself,
I’d rather be honest with myself, honest with her, why waste so much precious time on someone who’s head is elsewhere?
Am I going to get hurt here?
Now thats she has got past that anniversary, Has she crossed a mental boundary?
Has she moved on? Does she need time on her own to be all she can be?
Is she looking for something else, someone more attractive than me?
Is that important to her? More important than everything else?
Can I trust her? Would she cross the line, move on mentally if not physically, then tell me later?
Should I cut and run before I get in too deep and get burned?
Should I walk away and give her her freedom to let her be what she wants to be?
Should I forget that conversation, continue as if nothings happened? Hope it was nothing.
Should I speak to her about it, an open conversation and at least see how the land lies, good or bad?
Why is love never easy?
Why when everything seems so good, does one small remark change everything?
( Question 3 – Should I stay or Should I go? )
This is Part 12 of my fictional Online Dating story – For Part 1, click below.