Are you tired of hearing about this yet?

Hot Single Dad and I had a date yesterday.

He was going to be in-town, dropping off his kids, and we decided to get together for a few hours.

It was really beautiful. He got to my house and, in the flurry of a weekend with his kids, was exhausted. We snuggled on the couch for a bit. He got his back scratched and massaged a little bit. I do realize that he’s spoiled rotten, but to be quite honest, I really kind of love spoiling him.

Curses.

But we just layed around and watched TV for a bit. It was nice. Easy. Uncomplicated. Comfortable.

Insert steamy details of sexual romp #1 here. I’m not going to go into detail here, but I think it goes without saying that HSD’s still got it. Mercy.

We cuddled and layed around for a little while longer then went to a bar down the street with the intention of playing pool. When we got there, we decided to play shuffle board instead. It was really fun.

I forget, sometimes, what it’s like to go on a date with someone you know… To not have the nerves of it being the first-second-third date with someone. To know how this person is and how to push their buttons and how to be playful with them — it’s really one of the small things that you forget about when you’re not in a relationship for a long time. We drank beers, played a couple of games, sat on the patio, sat at the bar. It was just so unbelievably comfortable.

I was more honest with him last night than I’ve been with him ever — not that I’ve ever lied to him, but more like… I really took my feelings and pinned them on the wall. We talked about them, looked them over. He did the same thing with his feelings. I told him why I ended things this past January… How [the other girl]‘s presence made me feel like just a cunt in his harem… How I couldn’t let myself be associated with someone that I viewed as so utterly pathetic… How it made my question if I was actually equally pathetic.

He understood me. I think he probably has a lot more insight into what makes me tick… I’m sure it’s something of a relief to see that I’m full of layers and not just a bitch that has to ‘splode on somebody every six months.

We talked about what we were seeking (still, we’re not even on the same highway, haha) and it was interesting because I would say something like, “I need a man that’s going to stand up to me and tell me to shut the hell up sometimes.” And he chimed in, “I need to feel like I can be like that sometimes.”

And um… hello? Did we just describe each other? That’s what I felt like saying, but couldn’t quite bring myself to that supreme level of honesty. I told him (and I’ve told him this before) that I feel like if my current self met his 3-years-in-the-future him, it would be fireworks and compatibility and blah blah blah. But that we’re always going at two different speeds.

It was a little uncomfortable saying things to him — being so honest with him — “when I found out that you had an affair in your marriage, it really changed how I viewed you.” But it was also so incredibly liberating. There’s a certain intimacy that comes with the territory of getting naked with someone else… There’s a whole ‘nother level of intimacy that comes with really letting your walls down and being absolutely real with other people.

I’ve known this man for… Fifteen months or so. But I really think, for the first time, I’m not pressing against the door, keeping him out. Now, this isn’t to say that I’m all open, flashing my fleshy pink heart in his face, “Do what you will with me, sir!”

But I think it’s probably a bit telling for me, in my life. I mean, I’ve spent so much time since the break up with the sociopath working to keep my walls up… to protect myself… To keep the bad stuff out. I’ve missed out on a lot, I’m sure. It’s like antibiotics — they kill the bad stuff in your body, but also end up killing a lot of the good stuff, too.

Maybe I’ve needed this time. Maybe I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I have no way of knowing.

Insert sexual romp #2 and all I’m saying about this one is that this man has some kind of special powah or something. He didn’t even touch me, for the longest time, and it was incredibly intense. Then, sexual romp #3… And, well… he was surprised I was able to get things going again for him, heh.

What I do know for sure is this: minutes before HSD left last night, he was curled into me, his knee hiked way up over my hip — our entire bodies sort of tangled together. And he said, “Whatever guy ends up with you better fucking appreciate you.”

He’s right.