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Archive for the ‘Young Ones’ Category

So, I finally agreed to a movie and make out night with the 25-year-old. We picked up take-out from a local Whole Foods, I grabbed a tea from a coffee shop and then we headed back to his place. We set about watching Royal Tenenbaums and then a few too many episodes of Spaced on Hulu, which 25 had never seen. he wasn’t even familiar with Simon Pegg. HELLO! Hot Fuzz! Shaun of the Dead! Spaced?!!! I loves me some Simon Pegg.

Anyway, I’m there. I’m on his couch. He’s got the green light .And… nada. It isn’t until the last two episodes of Spaced that he finally decides to try to cuddle. Granted, I am not entirely there. I am a little distracted. I was supposed to be spending a steamy evening with Brooklyn in the backseat of a car on the beach. NO, not THAT steamy. As you may recall,the ex-wife stomped on those plans as soon as we had solidified them. So, here I was, with a plan B. I hate plan B’s because they aren’t fair to the person who ended up in that slot. Yet, there I was, willing to give him the chance he kept asking for and alluding to. He didn’t try to kiss me, he didn’t even pet me in a way that was suggestive of his desire to kiss me. It’s as if he completely froze up at the bat.

On the way to the train he finally gives me a little kiss. Boys, boys, boys. What are we gonna do with these nervous boys? This one is quickly migrating into the friendship sector. Ok, honestly, he probably already is there but I have been trying to give him a couple chances since he has tried for so long to get me to treat him like a man, rather than as a 25-year-old.

The 4-year-old black boy who started flirting with me on the train over to 25-year-old’s place has a better chance of dating me at this point, he had the moves, the guts, the lines… the 4-year-old was smoooth. He sauntered over to me after we made eye contact and sat in the empty seat next to me. He then looked up at me and said, ” Hi”. Simple and direct. I like it. I returned the greeting.  “I’m Marcus”. I smiled and told him my name while shaking his hand. A few seconds later, “so, you havin’ a good night?”. I started laughing, his mother was a few seats down cracking up at him as well. “Why yes Marcus, I am. Are you?” “Yeah, I’m on the Choo-Choo”, he replied.  Can I marry this boy now? He then asks me a few more questions and finally I ask him,”Marcus, are you flirting with me?”  He then looked up with these big brown eyes through huge thick black lashes, smiled shyly and said simply,”yes”. The 4-year-old has it figured out. Perhaps men lose their skills once puberty hits? This 4-year-old has it all figured out though. I’d date him, if I was 30 years younger.

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Brooklyn Boy commented tonight,” You really are infatuated with me, aren’t you?” . I was taken aback. I don’t really like the term infatuation, to me it stinks of reckless teenage crushes. I was also mildly offended for a moment. He then said,”well, cause I am too, so that’s good.” I laughed and asked if he was infatuated with himself and he smirked.  When I got home I found an email from him with a self-portrait. I loved it. A closeup of his jaw, lips and scarf wrapped neck. Very much the style of photo taking that I gravitate towards.  I commented back, lamenting that his handsomeness is killing me. I also voiced issue with the use of the term infatuated, stating that for me, it is more of a deep admiration and appreciation for him, and that I like him more than the average bear. His reply was that for him, he did believe infatuation was what he was feeling, perhaps without the extravagant foolishness and that he likes my intensity and finds me very “hot”. The boy makes me laugh.

We met for a pot of tea and a chocolate chip cookie after he got off work. I was supposed to meet my Foreigner friend for an early dinner in the area of Brooklyn’s office, since I was in an area close to the Foreigner’s home, but I received a text canceling 5 minutes before we were to meet. Grrrr, Foreigner boy… grrr.

Brooklyn told his soon to be ex-wife that he joined a dating site. She was none too pleased. She believed he was moving on too rapidly it seems. The issue with divorces is, one person is always done far sooner than another. He is ready to move on because the relationship has been dead to him for longer than she is admitting to herself. He did not tell her about me in particular, at least she has not yet asked if he has been seeing anyone yet. This isn’t need to know info. Specifics do no one any good. There was someone who she had been interested, or at least it now seems that perhaps she SAID she was interested in, just to receive a reaction. His reaction was ,”wooh! Go for it!”, not exactly what she thought. He wants her to be happy. He knows that they will never be truly happy together, they haven’t been for a very long time, regardless of previous separations and therapy. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone is let them go. Allow them the opportunity, and yourself, to be loved as you both deserve to be.

With that said, I promised the 25-year-old a make out session this weekend cause I keep blowing him off for dates all week and a really cool photographer winked at me on one of the dating sites. He used a quote from one of my favorite films. It was a film that my ex-fiance found to be “trite and pedestrian”. Fuck her, the pretentious douche bag. I happen to LOVE the movie.This of course earned the winking photographer some points in my book, and a reply.

I need some action soon. I could get it from Brooklyn but I want to wait until his mess is a bit more compartmentalized. Currently, it is a little too cluttered. I adore him and would like the opportunity to truly see what it could be about BUT, until he is 85% free and living on his own, I am going to continue to casually date other people and potentially get laid by someone.I need to avoid getting too wrapped up in Brooklyn’s saga… a distraction would be good. There is too much potential to become a rebound relationship for Brooklyn if I go blindly down this road. I want both eyes open for this journey, not only to avoid any unnecessary negative ramifications, but also, because he is so gosh darn pretty to look at.

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I woke up yesterday morning with some errands planned and a tentative date scheduled for the evening. He is someone whom I talked to a bit in December and then lost touch for a few weeks until the end of January. We agreed earlier in the week to have a loosely scheduled date in the 6:30 ish realm for Saturday night. No hard defined plans. Honestly, I was not feeling like it though and was hoping that I didn’t hear from him. He had suddenly become a Plan B.

After my meet-up turned date on Friday afternoon I found myself thinking a lot about Brooklyn Boy. I hadn’t met anyone whom I immediately felt an ease and comfort with like I did in his company. It seemed as if we had known each other for years as our rapport was so natural and unforced. He Google IM’d me around 9 pm and we spent several hours chatting online before I told him MY big “secret”. His response to my news, that I was just coming out of over a decade of lesbian exclusivity, was one of  surprise but not offense.  Most people aren’t offended per se, but there are preconceived beliefs that can interfere with someone’s attempts at getting to know me for who I am, which isn’t only as someone with a queer slant to my sexuality. Maybe it’s the New York in him, he isn’t fazed by much. He wants to see me on Saturday, if I am available. This is WHY my original date became my Plan B, as Brooklyn Boy suddenly took over top billing. I decided that if I didn’t hear from Plan B by 2 pm on Saturday, Brooklyn would win the spot.

So, I woke up as my 25-year-old texted me, hung over from a party the night before. I’m in need of distraction and ask him if he wants to tag along with me on my errands. We met an hour later, watched enough of the DVR’d Olympics to see the luger die and I dragged him out of his apartment. I couldn’t watch the news coverage, it was just too dreadfully sad. Meanwhile, I kept hoping I didn’t hear from Plan B.

We wandered around the city, grabbed some sesame balls from Chinatown, picked up my duvet cover, bought some dog food and then wrapped up our early afternoon adventure at a café with some latte’s, cinnamon tortilla chips and sea-salted caramels. 2 pm had come and gone and Brooklyn Boy had texted me and agreed to pick me up at my place at 4:30. A new hair conditioner I used in the morning had turned my hair into a bad science experiment show and tell exhibit so I had an hour to rush back to my place to rewash my hair and be ready.

The train was delayed. Tick Tock Tick Tock. Argh. I texted him begging that he please not be early. As I was hitting send, he texted me letting me know he would be roughly 20 minutes late. Score! I finally made it home, fed the dog, washed my hair and changed three times before taking the dog out for a quick last walk before he arrived.

A few minutes later he arrives in his family van, a sign of a parent with two young kids, and we decide to go into the city and figure out our plan from there. He’s still cute and I’m still intrigued. Sometimes the initial interest wanes after you go home after a date but it didn’t with him. I want his story. We are both obsessed with stories about people, we have similar projects we are planning on working on that are built around the stories of people you pass by every day and never think much about. Everyone has a story worth telling and being heard.We find a parking spot with a 2 hour limit but 2.5 hours until it switches over to free. We make note to stop back by later. Since his soon to be declared ex-wife doesn’t drink, he doesn’t get the opportunity to go out for cocktails much so we decide to start there. We each had a Dark and Stormy, chatted, laughed, people watched and then another round and some kisses and some more laughing and then a final 3rd round. Starting so early with the cocktails and having had so little to eat earlier in the day had us both a little pie eyed. We left and realized the time. Surely he had a ticket. We hesitantly walked by the family van and SCORE again, no ticket. That NEVER happens on this particular street. We look at each other quizzically and decide that to go to a little book store café down the street, maybe grab a bite and a cup of tea, sober up some.

Somehow we ended up sitting on the floor in the far aisle of the bookstore against a stack of unpopular books. I say they are unpopular because we sat there for 4 hours and only 3 people walked by the entire time. 3 people whom we chatted up and exchanged info with. Over the span of time we were sprawled on the floor we varied in position, at times I had my head in his lap as we looked through books, other times he leaned into me, or we faced each other, legs entwined and backs against opposing shelves.  The people who we met, one of them asked how long we had been together, how we had met. We laughed. When we confessed they looked shocked. They said that we appeared to have known eachother for years. We looked at eachother and smiled, it felt like that.We sat there on that floor for 4 hours like an old couple, punctuating moments with kisses, absent-minded caresses and laughter. He showed me illustrators he liked, I showed him a book of poems by Neruda, whom he had never read. He reads out loud. It’s nice, comforting, inclusive. I can not remember the last time I had felt such an ease with another person.

Eventually the bookstore threw us out because they were closing. he had a long drive back home so we decided to get back to the car and get me home. Only, we sat and talked, and talked, and stared at each other and laughed and kissed for 2 more hours. When we finally looked at the clock and saw that it was past 2, we untangled ourselves from our embrace and got serious about getting me home. Parked in front of my condo, I suggested I grab the dog for her last pee, and so he could meet her. In addition to kids, he also has a big cumbersome male dog. My pooch barely let me out the door before she had dragged me across the sidewalk and practically tackled him. She spent 15 minutes engrossed in him and the delicious scents of his family van. It’s a treasure trove of dropped kid snacks and dog cookie crumbles. We laughed at her and said our good nights. I made him promise to text me when he has arrived home safely.

I spent the next 2 hours chatting via IM with varying friends who happened to be online. We talk about him, I send over pics to them. Everyone approves, some worry about the complications of his current status. I counter that we all have baggage, some hide it better. His however, is completely in view. No apologies, it is, what it is. He has kids, he is in the process of getting divorced and for some reason something in my profile resonated with him and made him sign up to meet me. I consider that a gift. A fabulously unexpected gift.

Today is Valentine’s Day. Brooklyn Boy just texted me that he misses me. Is it okay that I find this sweet and not unnerving? I guess I like him too, so it’s okay. I have an Anti-Valentine’s Day date scheduled with my 25-year-old tonight but I am tired and really want to clean my house. I am also feeling a little run down. I am going to see if he minds a rain check. I would rather get some laundry done, take some Motrin (thank you period for arriving this morning), and watch I Love You, New York with my pup and some take out pho. I hope he understands.

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