All I want to do all day is masturbate. Which is interesting.
I am bored of watching porn to get ‘er done. It is efficient, though.
Damn, I crave being touched. Wanted. Desired.
I saw a photo of Highland Park on Facebook today. He looked good. I cried.
I am still friendly with him and his wife, however. This past weekend he drove his truck with me in it to pick up a new trundle bed for my daughter, that I found on Craig’s list. Then he elected to stay and put it together for me. Who does that? When saying good-bye we ended up making out for like a hot minute. But then he walked away. I thought about sending a flirty text, but then thought, what is the use?
There is an opportunity for some romance, though, and it’s not with Highland Park, but with someone, I was set up with a year ago. I went out on a date with him the month my Ex and I split up. It was too much too soon. He kissed me during dinner with a mouth full of salsa. I was not impressed. And although I did not refuse the kiss, I wish I had.
His timing sucked.
Plus the fact that I had a mouth full of salsa. I mean, come on, SALSA.
He liked me a lot. I could tell. And I did not reciprocate. At the time. I said I was not ready and we could be friends. Then I was not his friend. I knew this hurt him. I did not care.
I called him the other day, after a year of not speaking, out of the fucking blue, and blurted out “Hey, what do you know about Refuge Recovery?”
Here is the thing, I was sober when I met him. I am not sober now. And I wish I was. But I do not want to go back to AA, and he does not do AA but does Refuge Recovery, and I want to check out Refuge Recovery, and he is the only person I know who does Refuge Recovery, so….
He sounded surprised and said,”Wow. How about a “Hello, how are you?” He proceeded to tell me about the last time we spoke. Apparently, I said I did not want to be in contact. At all. I don’t remember that part. So I slowed down, asked him how he was, and could he please tell me about Refuge Recovery. He did. He also told me about a meditation retreat coming up with one of his teachers, based on recovery. I looked it up. I signed up. He is going too. This is getting more interesting. Then I spoke with my meditation teacher, and dear friend, who I know is friends with him, and she, in the vein of transparency told me she is having a polyamorous ‘casual dating” experience with him.
That made me like him more.
So now, even though I have poison oak on my eyelids and body, am considering going out, alone, late, to hear him play music at some small venue.
Am I out of my mind? I don’t even know if I like him.
But I want to be touched.
I miss my daughter. She is with her Dad. Who has a new girlfriend.
The other day he sent me a text meant for her. So that happened.
He apologized profusely.
I told him not to worry, that he was lucky it wasn’t a sext, although that would have been way more interesting for me.
He sent a laughing emoji back.
His text to his girlfriend that was sent to me read, “I am thinking about you.”
It was strange, to say the least, to read that message.
Time slowed down, my stomach did a somersault, I wanted to cry, but I didn’t.
I picked myself up and kept on going.
I feel invisible.
I don’t know what I am chasing right now.
I should be meditating.
I went to the show. We flirted watching the other performers. He asked me to give him a ride home, then he invited me in for tea, then to lay down next to him on his bed, then we started making out, and I said I did not want to have sex.
He asked, “What about just the tip?”
We had sex.
It is like high school all over again.