Posts tagged Miguel

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Scared this isn’t real, scared you don’t mean any of it. I’m afraid you’re totally bullshitting me, because at the end of my most meaningful relationship, it seemed as though I’d been being bullshitted for months and months and months.

You’re a very kind and genuine person.  You make me feel things I didn’t know I was supposed to.  You make me feel so safe.  I haven’t felt safe like this in years.  Your words and touch are warm and tough, meaningful.  And I do my best to follow those instead of the doubts in my battered mind, because they speak so much louder.  But that’s the problem with having a battered mind, it thinks it knows everything.

You’re different, in every way.  And I guess that’s more than a good reason to keep that faith I had 6 months ago and that you doubted.

Here we go.

So, ladies, dating a new guy, that “what are we doing?” conversation comes up sooner or later.  A month and a half in, it was time Miguel and I had ours.

Tuesday night, after I woke up from an unplanned mini-nap in his bed and I found my bra and threw on my hoodie, I got ready to head home.  He told me I could stay if I wanted, but I needed my own bed.  He sat on the edge of his bed, went to put his hoodie on to walk me out and looked up at me.  

“What’s on your mind, little lady?”

I asked him what we were doing, and he said, “we’re hanging out.”  He went on to talk about how comfortable he was with me and our situation and how he’s finally gathering speed on the right track to getting his life together.  (Because only I would find a guy seven years older than me that was at the same point in his life.  Thanks, maturity.)  I agreed, and with a happy heart and a grin on my face, I kissed his cheek and his lips and picked up my purse to get going.

It’s smart.  We’re buddies that have a great time together, have great laughs and great sex.  I like this slow, steady road we stumbled upon.  It’s a comforting way to ease myself into the L word again.

You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you’re just laying in bed with someone new and you’re staring at each other, not saying a word?  You’re just studying their face and their eyes and their lips and the lines and creases in their skin.  And then that feeling starts like a little firework.  Like a roman candle, soft and small at the beginning and then it grows and erupts.  It climbs from your stomach up through your chest and sparks into your throat.  

It’s a little scary, startling, at first.  And then just like becoming entranced in a little roman candle, you’re hooked.  You can’t break your gaze, you can’t shake that feeling.

And then warmth flows through your entire body, and you feel at home.

I feel at home with my roman candle.

I woke up early and did a bunch of cleaning and prettied myself up.  Miguel and I met at 1 and grabbed some coffee.  A creepy man wearing a beret hit on him and asked if he was a musician.  We vacated that Starbucks and went to the one in Barnes and Noble.  We sat outside before going in so he could finish his cigarette and creepy beret man walked in.  He followed us. I’m glad Miguel is wanted by all. I’m still laughing.

We went back to his place with a couple of movies, and turned into a lazy Sunday, which was perfect because it started to pour.  Again!  We changed into pajamas and curled up in bed together.  Nothing compares to the comfort and flow of someone that you just want to lay with for hours on end.  

The sex is incredible.  It varies between making love and fucking.  The making love part is something I’ve never experienced.  I’ve never been touched so soft and sweetly.  The energy is this force of nature I had no idea existed.  The feeling is really something I’ll never be able to describe. It just starts with this look he gives me and I’m hooked, I’m addicted, I’m in need.  

Then things got serious.  It was 10:30 and I said, “well I guess I should get going.”  He looks at me and says, “You can stay over, if you want.”  Well, no, I don’t want.  Not if you don’t want.  

This is the thing, we jumped the gun on physical intimacy.  But if I’m going to take things slow with anything, it’s the emotional shit.  I always dive head first into serious and he says he always trips and falls into it quickly.  I’d rather take our time.  I’d rather feel it all out and make it right.  If what I think is supposed to be, I want it to be right. 

He was telling me he’s realizing he’s more damaged than he originally thought, his ex really did a number on him.  I said, “that’s fine.  we don’t have to rush anything.”  Because, like I said, I’d rather make it right.  I wanted to stay over, nothing seemed more appealing than getting a shitty night of sleep in his bed with him wrapped around me, but not if it was too soon. 

Learning to pace myself is something awful.  I’m used to jumping right in, being almost-married after a month and a half.  I don’t want to blow it, though.  I don’t want to cheat either one of us out of the really fun, awesome beginning of a new relationship moments.  I want to spread those out and take them for all their worth.

So, we prolonged our goodbye and goodnight kiss for about 45 minutes, and just standing outside with him for that long, talking and laughing, I knew.  I know it’s the right thing.  I know it’s panning out just as it was planned.  And I’m not going to rush any of that.