baserinstincts

The one that got away…

Everyone has one, don’t they?

You meet a guy or a girl or whatever and you develop a crush.

Or you hit it off and things are going really well and you’re on cloud fucking nine.

Right?

You’ve been there.

I can probably name a couple who fall into that category for me.

No on second thought it’s really only one.

We’ll call him Mr. Red.

We met last year at (guess where?) work. I was in a relationship at the time (what else is new?)

But things were coming to a close (I just hadn’t told him yet).

Anyway, I’d seen him quite a few times before actually really noticing him if you know what I mean. He was tall, about 6′3″, on the lanky side, light of hair, eye and complexion. Not the kind of guy I’d generally look too hard at but he had a great face.

It was a happy, kind face. Complete with two huge dimples, a personal weakness of mine.

So the hellos quickly turned into hugs, which turned into big bear hugs, which turned into him making stops by my department to say hello.

Now I maintain that I did not leave my boyfriend for him but our fledgling flirtations gave me the extra push I needed to finally get out of a situation that was no longer making me happy.

One night I was leaving work and I saw him standing outside smoking a cigarette.

Turning my flirt game on and into high gear, I walk up to him reach up (because as I mentioned he’s quite tall) and gently pull the cigarette out of his mouth, take a drag and then replace it. It worked because he smiled his sexy dimpled smile and said “Bad girl”.

He asked about the book I was reading (Robert Jordan, Knife of Dreams) and then we went our seperate ways but not before he swept me into a bear hug, humming a soft “Umm” into my ear.

It was maybe a few days after that that I told my boyfriend it was over. It happened right before I had to leave for work and although it was what I wanted to do and knew in my heart it was the right thing I was still sad (hey…breaking up is hard to do).

I wasn’t expecting to see Mr. Red at work. I could’ve sworn he told me Sundays were his day off. But a few hours into my shift I hear a familiar voice behind me advising me that “crack kills” (2006 was officially the year of the butt crack). I turn around, instantly out of my funk, to see my tall, lanky albino-looking crush. I jump up to hug him. He asks me to lunch. And so it begins.

It was a whirlwind romance. Lunch turned into walking to the train together after work, which turned into more lunch which, eventually turned into an exchange of numbers and a drink after work.

I wasn’t expecting the kiss, he seemed the cautious, take-it-slow type. But I sure did enjoy it.

Kiss led to more kisses which led promptly to feel-and-grope. We were hanging out practically every night and having a blast at that. I hadn’t been so attracted to someone in a long time.

I hadn’t had this type of we- really- enjoy- each- others’- company- so- fuck- the- bullshit- and- the- drama fun in an even longer time.

I was smitten, and at the same time trying desperately to hold onto my panties for a respectable amount of time. See I kind of had this four week rule thing. I’m an adult woman, very comfortable with myself and my sexuality, but let’s be real. We all know you don’t give it up too soon if you want him to stick around for awhile (although there are exceptions, I gave it up to my current boyfriend pretty quickly and I can’t seem to get rid of him for the life of me).

It wasn’t easy. My coochie throbbed and practically screamed at me when he walked by, wept when he smiled. And boy I tell you, when my girl down there wants something, she makes it very difficult to ignore her.

I didn’t make it to four weeks. To his credit he was patient. But in the end, my fingers just weren’t doing it. So we fucked. It was tricky. I was living at my mom’s at the time (incidentally this experience made me realize I’d gotten too comfortable and stayed home too long, much longer than I’d planned and I got my own place soon thereafter). It was late at night. We had to be quiet. I felt like a fucking teenager. He was huge. It felt great. It was over too quickly (out of necessity). I was falling.

It’s a couple of weeks later and we were still having lunch together almost everyday. Whenever the opportunity arose, we had fabulous sex. He didn’t seem like he was trying to hide me at work. He’d even slipped up once and said the “L” word in half joking manner (which puzzled me for days and so I finally just asked him if he was joking… he said he wasn’t).

And then things changed.

I had purposely played cool and avoided the whole where-is-this-going line of questioning; partly because I was on the rebound, partly because more often than not that question is a jinx and mostly because I was just enjoying him and us too much and didn’t want to talk the relationship to death. But I realized that by asking him what he meant about the “L” word, I’d showed my hand too early (ah the games we play).

He had cause to be slightly unsure of me before that but after he knew he had me right where we wanted me. And then he began to flake. The visits became less frequent, the lunches rarely happened, phonecalles went unanswered and unreturned, smiles and hugs were strictly rationed.

I was sad.

I really liked this kid and I thought we really had something. I tried not to get too bummed about it but it just seemed to be coming to an end all too quickly. And I let it. I’m not one to put up a fight if someone is drifting from me.

Futile.

The time’s better spent finding out who’s waiting in the wings. But I still think of him fondly and wish he’d call sometime.

Not long after the “break up” he’d gotten fired (karma?) for excessive lateness. People have told me since that he’s been to visit several time and that he’s asked for me. It seems I’m never there though.

Today when I was leaving work, I caught glimpse of a tall, lanky, lightly colored man. My heart sped and I walked toward him to get a better look.

It wasn’t him.

And then not even a block away, I see another tall, lanky Mr. Red look alike.

Look alike though, not Mr. Red.

I smiled though, remebering the good times.

Maybe missing him gave me deja vu.