After J started dating his current girl, I channeled my emotions through pen onto paper. I sat down and wrote a list, or three lists, dealing with what I wanted in love and the lustful side as well, not to mention what I hoped to find in a partner.
The list wasn’t done in one day, nor did I intend for it to be so quickly compiled and absolutely written.
It started with things that were definite, like I definitely want a guy with fair skin, and eyes that can hold my gaze. I definitely want to be in a relationship and not a casual fling, I definitely want to be with someone who has much in common with me but is still different and makes up for what I lack.
I added to the list as I lived. I read about Japanese relationships, about how Japanese women have no moves in bed, and how some Japanese guys get startled when foreign girls actually do stuff or how they wish their Japanese women would do more than stay still. So in the list of lust, I wrote, “If I’m expected to lay there and do nothing, then I expect to be tied up and/or tied down. Just saying.”
As I added items to the list, I thought more about what I wanted, things I haven’t had in a relationship, things that seem old fashioned but that were probably still being done in the 1980s or so. For example, I wrote down that I would like to receive flowers, just not for Valentine’s Day when they’re marked up in price, and not after an argument because it doesn’t actually fix the issue. But after I wrote that, I realized it contradicted my statement about only wanting a guy to buy me things I need, even though gifts and such would still be appreciated. But it also reminded me of the ex fiancé, how he would buy roses for me at the Renaissance Faire, so I added that I didn’t want to get roses just because a guy feels like he has to since “that’s what guys do,” I wanted a guy to buy me flowers because he knows I like flowers or he sincerely feels like buying flowers.
My intention was to reach a point where I felt the list was fairly complete, that I had considered as many factors from my life as I possibly could, from turn-ons to annoyances and everything in between. At that point, I figured I would give the list to J, because either it’s all coincidence or he has a fairly decent command of the universe and the energies held within and all of that stuff that I can barely explain because I don’t know how he does it. Then again, I’ve had my own moments since moving in here, which I assumed were because of things I told him about and he made good things happen for me. Well, J never saw the list, at least not yet.
One thing is for certain, which is to say I realized J isn’t the right one for me. There are things about him I wished were different, which is normal, but I feel like he won’t be someone I really want to spend the rest of my life with.
J’s girlfriend said she might stop by after work on Friday, so J was hoping I’d be a little more social and actually talk to her. Well, my best friend, whose birthday falls five days before mine and who was born about five years after me, was having her party on Friday. I never told J about the party, not only because I figured he would probably choose to stay home, but because I didn’t even know if I was going to go. With J’s girlfriend coming over, and me waking up from a weird and horrible dream that really got me down, the only right thing to do was to go to this party, drink something with alcohol, and try to neither sit in the corner or monopolize the party by drawing attention to myself.
I came home from work, and within 20 minutes I put the dog out and changed my clothes. There was a goth theme to the party, and while I’ve never been a goth, I have shopped at Hot Topic once or twice. I put on my black skirt from the Ren Faire, then paired it with a lacy spaghetti-strap tank top which was also black. I was going to wear a black cardigan, but my Pokemon hoodie had pockets which everything else was lacking, and it too was black. I added a beaded cross necklace and feather earrings, which did come from Hot Topic, and my outfit was complete. I could have spent more time making myself pretty, but this is just a party at my friend’s place, where everyone is either already attached or wouldn’t be interested in me anyway, so I was safe to just enjoy myself. After all, I wasn’t going to the party to meet people, I was going there to spend time with a friend I don’t often see, and she couldn’t care less about how I was dressed or groomed… within reason, of course.
When I got there, I couldn’t park in the small lot where I parked last year. So I called my friend to ask her where it was best to park, and she said in front of her place, that I could just park behind the little pickup truck that looked as if it was built from random parts of other trucks. It was dubbed the Frankentruck, and its owner couldn’t prevent the teasing. It reminded me of the Johnny Cash song where he talks about walking off with all of these various car parts and then has assembled them into a vehicle of mixed years and such.
After I parked behind Frankentruck and came inside, I found a seat in the living room near Frankentruck’s owner. He was a guy about my age, fair skin, dark hair, wearing a black dress shirt with white and reddish-brown stripes. From that point, the timeline got blurry. We shared a few laughs, I helped him make more of the mixed drink he made for the party, it was a good time.
At one point while sitting beside him, his fingers started stroking my hand. Eventually, his fingers linked mine. I don’t even remember when we started kissing, but we did, seated next to each other while party people were partying next to us in the living room.
My car followed the Frankentruck back to his place, but not before my friend sang the praises of this guy who I just met. Before that, I had to ask if she could assist me in my need for feminine hygiene products, because I was self conscious and unprepared for any outcome other than going straight home after the party. But it was after 4 in the morning, and I didn’t feel tired, but sleep was probably the smartest thing I could have done at that point.
I slept face down next to him, and was comforted by his hand stroking my back every so often. When I woke up, I was still under the same blanket as he was, still laying beside him and touching, which seemed hard to believe because I’m used to guys saying they get too warm laying beside me. I hadn’t considered that, but mentally I added that to my list, that it would be nice to sleep beside someone who didn’t feel overheated beside me.
It was at one point, when I realized I was focused on his eye color as much as I was focused on just staring at the edge of his contact lenses, that I recalled my list item that said something about having eyes that held my gaze. And, check.
In fact, while we sat in my car the next day, he checked off a few more things. He replaced the windows in his house, by himself? Knows home repair, check. His talk about car repair checked off the item where he would need more skill than I have. He mentioned going out to see live music at a bar, and I knew I found someone who wants to go out and do things instead of just staying at home watching movies and tv shows.
Within 22 hours, he went from being this guy who I never met before (that I’m aware of, so far) to being the kind of guy I’m clearly looking for in life.
And yes, from the time I arrived at the party, to the moment I left his place, I had spent 22 hours with him. If he didn’t have plans for later that evening, and if I wasn’t worried about dealing with J because I hadn’t returned home and was therefore postponing the grocery shopping until the evening, I don’t think I could have left his side. I could have cuddled him forever, gently running my fingers through his hair. I could have talked with him about anything, the conversations seemed to flow endlessly, I was never bored, I was enlightened and I could contribute my knowledge and opinions freely and it would only enrich the conversation and bring about more knowledge from him. And as for kissing and all else, I can’t begin to describe how perfect all of that feels with him, and yet if I couldn’t be in his presence to kiss him and such, I know there is still more to him that I’m seriously admiring right now.
I felt love for him before we shared his bed, before we left my friend’s house, after we had been kissing. I could see myself sitting beside him, embracing him warmly and tenderly, nothing even remotely sexual about it. But it’s too soon to feel that way, or to even call it that, right?
I am so very scared.
It all feels too perfect.
I’m waiting for fate to give me the punchline to this cosmic joke. It feels like fate is saying, “No joke this time, go for it.”
But if I go for it, what if I say or do the wrong thing, and it fails?
Ah, but what if everything I do or say isn’t so bad?
What if I’m everything on his list as well?