For our first date, he took me to see the light show at the Los Angeles Zoo. I held his hand the entire time. It felt warm and safe there. We ate dinner afterward and talked till late. When he dropped me off, we decided he would not come in. I wanted to wait. I wanted to wait. I really wanted to wait. And I also really did not. Historically, I have not been very good at waiting for things that I want. He got out of the car to give me a hug, after the hug, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. On the lips. At first. Then on my cheeks, my chin, my nose, my forehead. It was the sexiest, most tender, sensual, and sweet thing.

I swooned.

And I still did not invite him in.

The next night we watched a movie on my couch. Both of our kids were with our co-parents and we had this wondrous string of free nights that has not happened since.

It was like the universe was parting the seas of time and giving us a chance to fall in love.

And I think we did.

I told him I wanted to wait for four dates. So we did a lot of heavy petting and grinding on the couch like teenagers. I loved the way he kissed.

He is a sexy, sensual, smart, and funny guy with the best boyish manly style I have ever seen.

By our third date, I decided to consider our first meeting as a date, because technically we did walk in and out of the party together. I call that a date.

We finally had sex. On a rainy afternoon. First at his house, then we took his dogs for a walk. He has THREE BIG HAIRY DOGS. Then he met me back at my house and we had sex again before he went to his men’s stag meeting.

I am impressed that we not only had sex twice the first time but we also managed to walk his dogs and hit two separate locations. He is very smart and meditates. Spiritual. Has faith, in something. Makes me laugh. A lot. I feel super comfortable around him. Like I can be myself. He told me yesterday how much he loves how I talk and what I say. He makes me feel beautiful. And honored. And cherished.


Sex at first is awkward. Sometimes.

He is a good human being. A good man. I can tell. Honest. Passionate. Creative. Curious. Compassionate. Everything I want. Yet…he is not dangerous, or scary, or abusive in any way and I fear I miss trauma sex. I fear it is what excites me the most. And I pray that is not true. And I pray that it can change.

Because I don’t want to give up on this one.

SOMETHING is telling me to stay.



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