.. what’s sex got to do with it?

I often worry that I’m good enough to fuck … but not good enough to love. Something I read somewhere once written by someone and for some reason it stuck with me. I accepted it but never understood it. Or felt that it applied to me. Like the time I sat down to talk to a homeless lady that sat outside my office building instead of throwing the change from my latte and realised I could learn so much from her. Or that I didn’t have the answers to all the questions I kept asking myself over and over again. But somehow after feeling so great about myself all afternoon, I found myself in another business class lounge waiting for a flight feeling the worst that I had for months.

After an incredible morning landing the dream job a million girls would kill for, I rewarded myself with a drink at my favourite watering hole. Introductions were made, light conversation with just enough flirting in between was had, and before long I imagined tasting the bourbon he was drinking on his tongue and down my throat. As he lived nearby it seemed logical we’d be heading in that direction. And so we did. 5-hrs passed in the blink of the eye and I needed to get to the airport and he needed to get to the gym. We exchanged numbers and made the casual promises you do.

There’s an intimacy that you can only have with a stranger. Where you can do or say or even think the unthinkable but in the bubble of the moment you imagine all sorts of crazy things like the fact that in my last relationship we didn’t have sex because he wanted to have a more meaningful relationship and here I was having sex with an amazing guy wishing that I could turn it into a relationship. So there we have it: a relationship without sex and sex without a relationship. Which one has a better chance? As I read his text message over and over again saying how great it was to meet me I couldn’t help but wonder which came first: the chicken or the sex?

I got two text messages the following day asking to see me again which can be regarded as something right? The abject misery of meeting the perfect man who is already involved or taking a break or whatever and not being able to have him especially when so much of your life is coming together in ways unimaginable. A month ago I was talking about what I wanted from life. Today I am making it happen. I’ll meet him for coffee and a chat and if a friendship comes from it then I’m the winner at the end of the day. He might not make a perfect boyfriend but a fantastic friend is the perfect consolation prize.

 

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