Sorry
again. This time I‘ve been on holiday, or at least out of town. Spent most of
it with my family, visiting other family members or attending family functions.
So now I‘ve done my duties, till Christmas at least. And I‘ve gotten rid of the
guilt knot that‘s been rolling up in my tummy since last Christmas and can spend
as much time this summer lazing about with my friends.
To wrap up
how things ended with Carl though; we did meet once again.
He texted
me the following evening and asked how I was doing. I gave him the perfect
opportunity to get involved in a a little flirty-dirty text conversation by
telling him I was about to get into a bubble bath, which I was. But he just told
me to enjoy my bath and bid good night.
I wasn‘t
all that disappointed, I really rather wanted to have an early night in than
give sex with Carl another go.
But still, I
wasn‘t willing to give up after one, not-so-great time so I called him a couple
of days later and suggested we‘d go to a cafe that night. Which we did and it
was rather nice.
And exactly
just that, nice. We talked but there were no sparks, I didn‘t long to kiss him
or touch him, even though we showed each other affection when we greeted each
other. I sensed something was off.
Then he
started to open up. He told me about his marriage, which had ended a year
and half before but had been bad for the past five years and the end had been
sudden and somewhat cruel. Not the least for his young children, whom he had
solely looked after for the most part since.
So, Carl explained,
he was finding it extremely hard to be intimate with me; he‘d been badly burnt
and was still recovering.
I saw he
was very uncomfortable talking about this and felt sorry for him. So I just leaned
forward, touched his arm, looked him in the eyes and said ‘So what you’re
saying is; we’ll never be more than friends, right?’
Never have
I seen anyone so relieved to hear that old, over-used phrase. So, we kept on
chatting and finished our teas. Then gave each other friendly pecks as we said
goodbye and promised to be in touch soon.
I was
feeling only a little melancholic as I walked home from the cafe. Carl was a
good man, a great ‘candidate’ because we had so much in common. He was cute and
funny too. So why didn’t we fall madly in love with each other? What was
missing?
I only managed
to walk two blocks though when, passing a pub, a young man (well, younger than me)
addressed me. He was cute and looked harmless so I stopped to say hi in return.
We introduced ourselves and he, obviously a tad drunk, said he worried about a
beautiful woman walking home on her own after dark.
There was
no way I was going to allow him to walk me home so I said I was a big girl and
could take care of myself.
He still
insisted I’d let him know that I’d arrived home safely and practically forced
his phone number upon me.
I thought
he was cute and agreed, continuing walking home thinking how funny this evening
had been. First, I sort of got dumped by a man 17 years my senior and a few
minutes later, someone in his early twenties had tried to pick me up!
I’d be all
right.
