So, I met this fellow online in April of 2017. Richard. I hate that name Richard. He was interesting, intelligent, funny, witty... it's the wit that usually attracts me the most. He was crazy funny, and corny as hell. I'd use the word eccentric, but he's way too much fun for the images conjured up by that word. Class clown maybe? He had an excellent vocabulary. He used words that I hadn't heard before. I gauged him to be at least as intelligent as me and probably more so. That doesn't happen very often. I was delighted.
At the time I started up with Richard, I was damping down my "sexual reawakening" phase. Having met several men over the previous six-month period, and having slept with a subset of those, I was tired of the casual sex thing. Sex is never casual for me. It's silly for me to ever imagine and then pretend that I can be intimate with a man and not develop some level of connection and warmth and affection towards him. And if I only see him once, it always stings a bit. Maybe for a handful of days, maybe only until the next fellow takes my mind off the last, but still. Unnecessary angst I introduce into my own life. I have a slew of ways I manage to sabotage myself.
I kept up a steady banter with Richard. Sometimes he was the one that took the initiative in our communication. In fact, for most of the first few weeks, it was all Richard who took the initiative. I was preoccupied with other things, namely other men.
I liked Richard. I spent a lot of time thinking about Richard. He was married, still, to a woman that had left him five years previous. He stayed married, he explained, so his oldest son could stay on his health insurance. That didn't make a lot of sense to me, but so be it. It didn't matter much to me because Richard wasn't a "keeper". I occasionally thought he might be a keeper; he would occasionally surprise me with something he said that was exceptionally witty or profound. But, for the most part, Richard was a fun guy to talk to. A fun guy to spend time with. I knew we'd be friends for a long time. We had that chemistry for certain. We were kindred spirits in many ways. Most certainly in the friendship way.
A couple of weeks into our "friendship", we met for our first liaison. That day, I must have been thinking Richard might just might just might be a keeper, because I started with the Klonipin a couple of hours before he arrived at the hotel. Klonipin is an anti-anxiety drug. So, after the first Klonipin, I thought maybe I should take another, and so I did. Once you have two Klonipin in you, if it seems like a good idea to take another, then another, then another, you just do it. And after about three Klonipin, you don't remember how many Klonipin you've taken, so it seems like a good idea to take another Klonipin. Before you know it, you've taken who knows how many Klonipin. And you are very relaxed. The good thing about Klonipin is it takes away all your inhibitions. So even if you're self-conscious about your body, you are a wild woman in the sack. The bad thing about Klonipin is that you don't remember much. Just bits and pieces, and usually only when someone recounts the events for you.
I remember when he got to the hotel, I opened the door and just hugged him for a long time. I remember squeezing him tight. The next thing I remember, and this could be majorly out of sequence, but I remember he came to bed wearing sweatpants. I don't know what he had on top, a hoodie maybe? Or a t-shirt? But good lord, sweatpants. I told him to take off his clothes that I wanted to feel his skin against mine. He did. Under extreme protest I might add, but he did.
He snuggled up against me spoon style, and I felt him rise against me. I reached back and held him and felt him come fully erect in my hand. I scrambled down to take him into my mouth. I pushed my mouth as far down his shaft as I could, then slowly drew my mouth up. He moaned. At that moment, I knew I had control. I was impatient for him to enter me, so I moved into position and pulled him inside. I wish I could remember more. I remember he went slow, and then I remember he went fast. When he went fast, the bed slammed against the wall. I wondered if there was anyone in the next room. Then I thought "I don't care!"
The next thing I remember, he was at the door and he said goodbye to me. I didn't remember him kissing me goodbye. He says he did. I wish I could remember. Because now I love Richard. And that was our first time together. And it should have been magical and special and memorable. But instead it is largely a big blank.
After that, and I'm not sure why exactly, but after that, I ruled Richard out as a keeper. He had a firm fast hold on a long-term friendship with me, but I knew he wasn't someone that I could be romantically involved with long term. We'd be friends with benefits. We both agreed. FWB. Yes. That was all it would be. But we both agreed that that would be a wonderful thing and that it would be enough.
Richard continued to take the lead in communicating with me. We'd text a couple of times a day, he'd call and we'd talk every couple of days. Then, about a week after we'd had sex, I didn't hear from Richard for a day, then two days. I had become accustomed to him paying attention to me, seeking me out for conversation, liking me, being nice to me, complimenting me, telling me he loved my body, flirting with me, telling me what an excellent lover I am. I dig on that. Doesn't every woman?
I texted him a terse message: "Richard, I never figured you for the type of guy that would ghost me." Within a short period, I received a voice mail from Richard. He explained work had been very busy and he was not ghosting me at all. I was still miffed. Me, thinking I deserved to be worshipped by Richard. How incredibly arrogant I was!
I had a phone conversation with Richard where in a very accusatory tone, I told him that he didn't have time to date and he shouldn't have a profile on a dating site. I told him that I knew he had warned me that he had kids and his life was busy and full, but now that I was experienced the impact of that, I didn't like it. Richard asked if I wanted to go back to being "just friends". Now that I remember how I felt at just that moment, I remember I didn't agree to any such thing. I let the question go unanswered. Then we got into a conversation about classic literature, and he was able to delight and charm me into a better mood. That is his gift.
