My birthday last year was a weird one. I turned 35, which means I am now older than my Dad was when he passed away. I had a lot of feelings about it. So, I celebrated a little differently than I usually do.
I met James on a dating app, damned if I know which one. He had an incredible smile. And great tattoos. And a nose ring. Uh oh. We chatted for a bit and then made dinner plans for the day before my birthday. I was still afraid of driving to Tulsa then, so he met me at a sushi restaurant in a suburb.
You guys. What a gorgeous man. If I believed in leagues, I would say he was out of mine.
Dinner was great. He was an excellent sushi-orderer and a great conversationalist. He told me about his non-profit and how it was a cause to which he was personally connected. He had overcome some enormous challenges in his life, and I respected the shit out of that. He did have a weird habit of winking at me when he smiled, but I rolled with it. It wasn’t creepy, just corny.
After dinner, he walked me to my car and asked if he could get in and sit with me for a moment. I truly wasn’t certain whether or not he was interested in me, honestly kind of intimidated by his good looks. I let him in, we talked a little while longer, then shared a very conservative kiss goodbye. We talked later that night, both admitting our attraction to one another and that we were unsure it was mutual. It was. I told him the next time I saw him there would be no doubts.
We texted the next day, he asked about my birthday plans and I told him I didn’t have any. He asked if I’d like to see him. And I went. As soon as we met, we kissed, and passionately this time. We got tacos from what would become my favorite taco restaurant, and then he drove us to his place. We ate, hung out a little, talked. We started making out on the couch, and then he led me to his bedroom.
The dude ate pussy like a champ. He was well-endowed. He explored my entire body. He was attentive and observant. Yeah, the sex was fucking great. I was exceptionally attracted to him, I couldn’t believe my luck. I swear, the older and more self-assured I get, the more beautiful the men I attract. Zero complaints from me.
When we were both satisfied, we lay together and talked for a while. It was nice. I liked him. This had ended up being a pretty wonderful birthday. We talked about seeing each other again, both agreeing that we would like to. I left, smiling to myself on the drive home.
We texted for a few days after that. I felt him cooling off. Damn. Eventually, he told me he didn’t have space in his life to date right now. He was working and studying. He couldn’t give the time it would need to be fulfilling for either of us. I told him I understood, and that if he ever wanted to just hook up sometime, he should give me a call.
I really really really wanted to fuck him again, so I messaged from time to time. Checking in. Reminding him I was there. It’s fair to say I gently pursued him. Ultimately, he stopped replying. That was fair. He had told me he wasn’t interested, after all. I was the one still chasing.
That all happened last June. In the months since, I’ve seen occasional news articles about him or his non-profit, and when I do, I reach out with congratulatory messages. Never with any reply. That’s OK. I just wanted to be a cheerleader of his achievements. No response required.
I haven’t thought about him in a while. Not since the last article I saw about him.
Last night, B and I were able to spend some time together. We ended up going to a bar downtown with some friends of mine to see some live music. I went up to order our drinks and stood behind the only empty chair while I waited for the bartender to get to me. There was a guy sitting in the next seat, I could see him in my periphery, but I didn’t look at him. I make it a point to avoid eye contact with dudes at bars. He reached to move the backpack he had sitting on the empty chair and offered me the seat. I said no thank you, I was just waiting to order. Then I looked at him for the first time. It was James.
Oh shit! I said. Hello! We exchanged pleasantries, and I gave him a hug. He told me he hangs out there a lot. Then he did something I wasn’t expecting. He apologized for ghosting me. He said he was an asshole. I told him it wasn’t a big deal, I hadn’t cried or lost sleep over it, we had fucked one time and it had been a lot of fun. He apologized again, and I realized what he needed. “I forgive you.” I told him. He visibly relaxed, and thanked me.
If I hadn’t been out with B, I might have taken that seat next to him. Talked a while. Perhaps even have gone home with him for the night, if he wanted. He still looked good. He still winked at me. Instead, I pointed to my group and told him I was out with them, that B and I have been dating for six months, and I was going to get back to them. I hugged him goodbye, told him it was lovely to see him, and to take care.
If I happen to run into him again sometime, I won’t be mad about it.
Fat and Slutty 