I received an email a week ago, last Wednesday, from a man I barely talked with. What I do recall is that he was married, older and lied in a most friendly manner, about seeing Requiem for a Dream (which is why I let the first conversation fall away the first time). He had read my blog, and wrote a large email about it. Saying such beautiful things about my writing and about how he saw the events from my words. He ended up getting it right. It floored me, I'm a sucker for such talk, let alone about ideas or thoughts. I emailed back, he responded. I sent another one, he responded. All on the Thursday. Friday morning I met up with him on msn. Had fun chatting, found out he was from England (me and my UK obsession) My next question was "do you have an accent?". He does. Oh no! I asked if he wanted to meet up. We arranged a meeting later in the day. I sat at Riverview for awhile, thinking, writing, enjoying such a beautiful spot. I headed to Starbucks to meet the "smartass brit" at 630pm. He walked in, handsome, he looked like a laid back kind of guy.

He sat, he talked, with his accent. We had a good conversation, he was sarcastic, charming and funny. I was comfortable but yet still couldn't get my words out right, fumbling a bit, hoping he didn't notice. Was very interested in hearing about his "situation" with his wife. He felt safe, he was married, some of the "worries" meeting a man was lifted. About 2 hours later he said he had to go and walk his dogs...hmmm... but we had set up a "code"” for not being interested. He would say he had to go and wash his hair. He took my hands in his and told me that he didn't have to go wash his hair and laughed. But he did need to walk his dogs. So he walked me out to the car, I was feeling anxious, still new to this whole thing, wondering if perhaps I have it wrong, that first meetings are not supposed have hot, sweaty, sex yet. Or I don't hold the same taboo's about sex as society, and I don't have a problem expressing it. He turned me around, grabbed my face and kissed me. Ummm, biting my bottom lip, hard. My knees felt weak, and I wrapped my hands around his neck, massaging it. He said he was worried he would have ended up with 2 black eyes, I smiled dropped my bag and kissed him again. His hands were resting against the sides of my breasts, lightly stroking. My hand found his chest and played a bit, perhaps I shouldn't have done that. I remember making a comment on how long it would take to walk his dogs, he smiled. But we still broke apart and went our seperate ways. He had asked in the coffee shop if I wanted to do something this weekend. I assumed since it was Friday he meant either sat or sun. I emailed him Sat morning asking if he still wanted to do something. His reply was "of course he would, and would like to see other ways he can make me blush"”. That was the last I have heard from him.

So my mind plays tricks on me, I keep thinking, maybe he meant this upcoming weekend. But I don'’t think so. And I saw he posted a blog on Sunday, which means he was on the computer and may have seen my emails. Not one back though. This is one guy I was interested in chatting with, finding out more about an "“open"” relationship. Maybe I was too green for it? Maybe he doesn't want to start with a newbie, or maybe there is a set of rules for married people I'm not quite sure of yet. I ended with an email saying thank you for the wonderful things he wrote to me and that I did find him quite attractive. And just left it at that. Would love to see him again, he made me laugh, and really I have no reason to be left with any question. I'm just too anxious to discover new things...little patience...should work on that.

I once had a relationship with an older man when I was 19, he was 32. At that age, I was silly and thought the world revolved around "20 somethings". I nicknamed him "older than god". Not very flattering to outsiders, but to those who knew him and I, knew he looked like Ted Nealy from Jesus Christ Superstar (the most religious thing my parents ever forced on us). Problem was Ted Nealy was Jesus....I think that was my first step in signing my warrant to hell! So the "older than god" was not meant to be offensive, just clever and a bit sacrilegious.

He taught me things in and out of the bedroom that have stayed with me. I found him distinguished and liked the feeling of being a bit naive and letting him guide me. I have always found older men more attractive, hopefully the same bullshit younger men suffer from has been replaced with intelligence and passions discovered through life. I remember lying with him, laughing and talking, enjoying the time but never taking it to be more than what it was. We didn't have a future together, it was about learning from each other, exploring and just creating a great friendship...with a bit of a bonus.
We eventually moved on...I grew older...he went on to a different stage in life, he wanted children, even with a friend, but we differed on our thoughts on children in this world. It was an experience that still leaves a smile on my face, one of those people you will never forget and have no regrets about it.

Funny thing is...I'm fast approaching the "older than god" age...... It makes me laugh to think what I thought old was.