My Dear Sillies,
I don't usually cut to the chase. Instead, I cut out the chase. So I'll just tell you that Clark gave me one "installment," (I suspect it was 5.5 or 5.25 inches. I didn't take out my tape measure.)
Quality-wise, the night was dreamy. He'd brought over dinner and drinks, we talked about past relationships and what we're looking for. A positive, thick tension thickened.
"What do you want to do now?" he asked.
"I want to kiss you."
Things heated blissfully smoothly, and we slept well too. It was a wonderfully pleasant and pleasurable night. Clark checked in the following afternoon.
He made a salmon dinner for me the following weekend.
Clark asked me questions, didn't interrupt my responses to tell me tediously boring factoids about himself, and I really, really liked him.
As soon as he bit into the salmon, Clark felt sick. A few minutes later, I was politely, apologetically asked to leave.
What a disappointment.
"How about if I bring you some homemade matzo ball soup?" I offered the next day. Good move, right? I'd win him over for sure.
My soup turned out great. Clark appreciated it so much that he bargained for potato latkes next. I agreed, with a playful (but serious) disclaimer, "That's going to be it for my Jewish dishes, though."
"Mm, mm, these are great! Thanks for making them."
"Well, truthfully, I used a mix. It's too easy," I grinned. "And I had to taste-test plenty of latkes for you."
We moved to the couch after dinner.
He took my hand. "I planned for you to stay the night," Clark said stoically, "but you like me more than I like you." Okay? "I hate hurting people, so I want to keep dating without the sex."
Say what? "What would that look like? We already crossed the line."
"Yes, and it was wonderful. But I potentially want to see other people." You're hurting me so as to not hurt me by refusing to have sex again with me because the sex was wonderful and you assume that I have more feelings for you than you do for me?
"I think you're projecting stuff onto me," I shrugged. "Okay, then."
I got up to retrieve my purse and the left-over latkes.
"Why are you--? Okay, okay, yeah, you're NOT staying the night after that. I regret ever having sex with you in the first place."
Clark walked to his kitchen, retrieved a roll of aluminum foil from a drawer, and tore off a large piece. He very meticulously wrapped the left-over latkes in foil, then handed them to me.
Damn straight, you don't get these!
Numb, I took my other belongings and walked to the door. What do I say now? I turned to him.
"Well, have a good night," is all I could think to say, because I'm too nice like that.
He looked at me sadly, patronizingly.
I'm still hurt and perplexed over this non-super man. He probably should've just "ghosted" me, but I guess he really, really wanted potato latkes.
Wow - that's brutal. You used your humor in this post, but I can't find anything funny to write. That is super weird and he's no Clark Kent/ Superman. Dang - I had hope, unless somehow there is a third installment? Don't play with us or lead us on in your labels. Maybe he had an epiphany? Oy vey?
ReplyDeleteThank you, Joanne. I couldn't figure out a way to make it funny-sassy and not too long (pun unintended, but it wasn't that long). Was hoping to hear from him, how he realized how stupid he was, but no. Oy vey.
DeleteLove ya.
Weirderoonies. His loss. (and yours in the short term).
ReplyDeleteThank you for saying that, EC. It made for a sad, hurtful week or so. Honestly, I'm not quite over that weirderoonie.
DeleteDear Robyn,between gallant and cavalier is a defining difference: gallant is sincere, attentive, courteous to women, while cavalier easily neglects or ignores something so important --sincere respect. True, I was born deep in another century, but the distinction sadly persists. All my best wishes to truth, love, gallantry and YOU.
ReplyDeleteThat's beautiful, Geo, and I appreciate the distinction. Cavalier = the charming narcissist. It took a while (decades), but I think I'm now better at detecting cavalier ones. Maybe.
DeleteLove and all the best of things back to you.
A hole. A true a-hole
ReplyDeleteYes. Thank you, Birgit. Truly.
DeleteHugs.
Super is as super does. You were right to take the latkes home.
ReplyDeleteOh, I was sure not going to leave him a crumb.
DeleteThank you, Debra.
What a jerk. And what guy regrets great sex? His loss.
ReplyDeleteI know, Alex. He said that to hurt me, so mean. None of it makes sense. Except that he's a jerk. Thanks so much for saying that.
DeleteWow.......weird, sad, and sorta funny. Very creative on your part.
ReplyDeleteSandy's Space
I very much appreciate that, Sandy. I don't want my stories to be boring or too depressing, even when they depress me.
DeleteMy loving blog friends always help.
Be well.
It's sad when things don't work out (I just wrote about "jilting" a woman (back when I was 19 and she was 35).
ReplyDelete19 and 35? Woowee, young stud. Smiles. Oh, um, yeah I didn't mention that I'm 54, Clark is 38. I just did the math and if I'm correct, I'm a stud by the same amount of years. Haha.
DeleteThanks, Jeff. I'll be by asap.
What a shit with his assumptions. He must think he's quite a gift to women.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
I know, Janie. Thanks. Did he think I'd agree to dating without sex or was that his twisted way of getting me to end the relationship? If so, why get so snippy with me? Weirdo pos.
DeleteAppreciate your support.
Love.
Some people are weird... Yep, that's all I've got on this one 🤔
ReplyDeleteMe too, Annalisa. That's all I've got. Well, not really. I have extensive analysis and stuff, for ego preserving purposes. But for this blog post, it's all I've got.
DeleteThank you.
Really? What a you-know-what. He got way more than he deserved.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Yes, he did, way more.
DeleteI appreciate your saying that, Diane.
Be well.
Dears, Sorry for my extra slow movement in blogland these days. I will visit you, most definitely. I just have lots of (non male) balls in the air right now. I love you, my friends.
ReplyDeleteThats a shame ! And my friends wonder I only ever wanna just have sex.
ReplyDelete