Something’s wrong…
No no, everything is perfect. Wrong and Perfect.
It’s a conflicting predicament; I can only describe as so. The last few weeks that I had been with Jon felt perfect. I knew since I first met him that we would get along well.
Now, is he everything that I dreamed of since I was little girl? No.
If I could describe and draw a picture of Mr. Perfect, would it look exactly like Jon? No.
No one is and I know that. However there is still something wrong, and I didn’t know if it was my inner cerebral cortex trying to send a message, but was getting skewed by millions of dopamine hormones rushing through my nerves. Or that something is not fitting together.
I never built a rapport with my past partner; in fact, with none of the guys that I had dated in the past. Usually because I was traveling (exchange student) or they were…so there wasn’t “a lot of time” to get to know each other or try to.
And I didn’t really try to.
Because I could usually tell by the first date, how “interested” I am. Jon is the first one that really caught my interest.
Yep, the first one I can truly say caught more than my interest. I was hooked like a fish. And just like a fish hooked on its last breath before the inevitable: I felt cold, scared, and uncertain by my unfamiliar predicament.
“Goodnight” I glowed as I bid him farewell at my doorway and watched him drive off in his SUV.
****
The next morning I had some field work to do, which involved presentations and meetings…so I turned my cell phone off, promising myself to remember to turn it on once I stepped into my office around mid-day.
I didn’t text Jon my usual “Good Morning” message, and with my phone off…I didn’t get his text nor call.
You see it was a coincidence — that this hectic day — which was also compounded by the last minute presentations I had to do once I arrived in the office, was the day after our first time. So I simply forgot to turn my phone back on, at least until it almost quitting time.
But hey, better late than never. Right?
“Hey sweetheart, sorry I missed your messages earlier.” I say as innocently and gently as I can.
“Oh k, yea I called you earlier” He reiterates, very calmly and cool.
“Yeeehh, I was out in the field doing presentations, you know how that’s like…..” I quickly explained my day, “and after that as soon as I got back in the office, I had a last minute presentation to put together with my coworker….I didn’t even eat lunch….” using my exasperated voice.
“I’m so tired, I just want a glass of wine when I get home and to fall asleep in front of the TV” I finished.
And held my breath as I waited.
“Oh k, it sounds like you were really busy….there’s gonna be a house party a few apartments down from mine, I thought maybe you can come over and we can go check it out.”
And now breathe…..
“Oh I’m really beat tonight. Maybe another time, I just want to relax…..oh but I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer, you should still go and have fun!”
Now smile Sabine!
“Oh that’s ok, I’m not that interested…maybe you can come over…we don’t have to do anything, just chill.” He explained.
“Yeh sure, should I bring an overnight bag?”
“Its up to you” he said.
We bidded goodbye and hung up.
Its up to me?
This isn’t my apartment, I needed a clear invitation to come and spend the night and not have to truck back and forth three times between the boroughs in less than 16 hours. Especially on a work night…
After reaching my home and having dinner, I gave Jon another call.
“Hey, I’m about to leave, just wanted to see if you were home yet.”
“Yooo….come on over, I’m just chilling” he crooned.
Right.
“Ok sure, so you want me to spend the night?” I asked.
“Well, its up to you, whatever you want to do, or whatever easier….” He explained.
“Well, I thought you were inviting me…but…” I stammered. It wasn’t a yes or a no. So I figured if he really wanted me to stay, he would ask. And he didn’t. He didn’t even verbalize a clear answer when I asked.
So I assumed it was too early for us to have weekly sleepovers, and my toothbrush should stay set in my travel kit.
So I came over, san baggage, and was greeted with a hug and kiss at his doorway.
“Hey…where’s your stuff?” Jon asked.
I don’t remember if I felt surprised or just wary from having this conversation and still not getting a clear answer.
“Well, I didn’t bring it. I wasn’t sure….plus your bed is so small, where would I sleep?” I began to explain.
“Oh ok, its whatever, it’s up to you if you want to stay or not.” He said shrugging it off his shoulders, but yet it weighed heavily on mine.
For the first hour or so I watched TV, while he played with an online game. Then he crawled into the bed (with boxers) and coaxed me next to him.
This is nice. 
What I wanted…to just fall asleep beside him watching television. A glass of wine wouldn’t –
“Hey hey….” he whispered childishly as he fished for my left hand.
“What” I asked with raised eyebrows, I looked under the covers but everything was normal, I could see his stomach, boxers, and part of his right thigh. Is he hurt?
“Here…feel this” as he placed my hand in the middle of his crotch, where through an opening I could feel his penis starting to come alive.
I don’t know what set me off.
The fact that he didn’t want me to stay over, or didn’t want to come over to my place. Maybe I was still upset by the way he yelled at me the other night, or the fact that I told him I was tired and didn’t want to do anything but yet he lured me here…so he can…take advantage of me?! Use me?! It’s not even romantic! “Look look…feel here” as you force someone to grope you? Not even an offer of a massage on my tired shoulders or working feet to get me warmed up and into the mood?
“What the Hell is wrong with you?”
Funny. I could ask you the same thing.
Chapter 11: Still not Meshing
“Hhhmmmm…well I think it’s a practical solution for two people…”
“That’s not a good enough reason for me to be with you.”
