Insert foot in mouth

 

Remember, oh, like last week when I went on my spiritual awakening about wanting to be alone and how I wasn’t into Mr. Artist like I wanted to be?

I’m eating my words now.

I spent some time with Mr. Artist on Saturday, Sunday and Monday.

Saturday and Sunday were him inviting me to hang out.

I enjoyed his company so much on Sunday just chilling and watching a movie that I felt compelled to invite him over last night (Monday) to watch another movie.

He said yes, of course.

We talked for a bit and he told me about his days doing professional country line dancing and impersonating Chaplin and James Dean for Universal Studios and in Las Vegas.

He does pretty good voice impersonations and I found myself laughing and enjoying poking fun at him.

Before we started the movie, he told me that Sunday is his birthday (he’ll be 41) and his brother and his girlfriend as well as his parents and sister are having a small celebration for him.

He said he would be cooking.

And I was invited.

I said, “Sure” knowing that I’d be the only “friend” there and I’d be meeting his entire immediate family.

No pressure.

Just friends, right?

We watched this quirky British movie called “Cashback” about this art student in college who’s girlfriend breaks up with him and he gets insomnia and finds a job at a local supermarket doing the night shift.

We may have bordered flirting during the movie. There were several times I wanted to kiss him for being adorable, but I stopped myself.

I said something in Spanish off hand and he quite likes the accent I have with certain words. He was trying to say it with the accent and getting quite shy because I kept forcing him to keep trying.

I thought it was so cute that I kissed him on the cheek.

I found myself once again divulging personal information and history that I never bring up to people just because.

It’s like I have personal confessions word vomit with him.

I haven’t had the impulse to share so much personal parts of my life since, well, Mr. Nerd.

I showed him this video that I love of my nephew saying my name in his adorable 3 year old voice and another one of Valentine totally making out with him.

I told him I watch these videos whenever I’m feeling bad and they make me smile or laugh every time.

Why do I share shit like that with him?

As we were cracking up about the video of my nephew and Valentine making out (it’s pretty funny), I noticed how much I was enjoying myself.

It’s like when the pressure to be romantic and have all this physical contact evaporated, we were able to focus on just being with each other, actually getting to know each other.

I really, really liked it.

He got ready to leave and I hugged him goodbye.

But I lingered.

Because it felt really nice to hug him.

And I wanted to kiss him.

So I kissed him on the cheek and he did the same.

We hugged some more.

I slowly moved my face and kissed the side of his mouth.

It was over.

We were kissing.

When we stopped, he whispered in my ear, “I really want to be with you. But if you aren’t sure, I understand.”

He kissed my face and lips and my head swirled because I wanted to but I also didn’t.

I wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

So I told him so.

He said he understood and kissed my hands.

Once he was outside, he turned in my doorway, looking a bit concerned and said, “Will I hear from you tomorrow?”

I assured him he would.

This morning I sent him a text saying, “Good morning. I know you are still asleep but I wanted to show you that I’m not going to disappear.”

Several hours later (because I work ungodly school hours) he responded, “Thank you. I know you’ve been through a lot lately (I had told him about both Mr. K and Mr. Nerd) so if last night was a mistake for you, we can pretend it didn’t happen. It was nice, though.”

I told him is was not a mistake.

That I wanted to kiss him and how I enjoyed spending time with him.

I then told him that I want to take the lead. I want to be the one to initiate all affection because then it feels like it’s my choice and allows me to know exactly what I want and when I want it instead of always responding to someone else’s lead.

He agreed, stating that he’s never done that with anyone before but he is okay with taking things slow with me.

I am terrified because I know he’s different.

I can admit that now.

That’s probably why I pushed him away in the first place.

Why I’m making him jump through hoops.

When comparing him to Mr. Awkward and even 25, I found myself wondering why I am still keeping them around.

Truth is, Mr. Awkward is comforting but he takes more than he gives.

I don’t benefit from having him in my life.

And I’m not that interested in 25.

He’s fun but like I said, we hardly talk.

Then there’s Mr. Artist, who seems to be my own Colonel Brandon (from Sense and Sensibility).

Colonel Brandon is in love with Marianne from the moment he meets her, but she is annoyed by his lack of passion.

She thinks him unattractive and boring.

She falls in love with Willoughby, who is handsome, young, and passionate.

But Willoughby is a skeez and breaks her heart and when she is on the verge of dying, Colonel Brandon is there, worried and making sure she gets everything she needs to survive.

During her recovery, she learns to appreciate him and his quiet consistency, eventually falling in love and marrying him.

I’m not saying I’m going to marry Mr. Artist or anything, but I can feel certain parallels to the story.

(Okay, so Mr. Artist isn’t unattractive, rich, or super old, but you get what I mean, the whole looking for the sparks and passion and then realizing that is not necessarily the only way to fall in love with someone)

I decided I don’t want to keep seeing Mr. Awkward or 25.

I’m going to give it an honest go with Mr. Artist.

If it works out, awesome.

If not, that’s okay too.

For now, I’m in charge and that’s the way I like it.

God bless this man for putting up with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About samlobos

I am an avid fan of creating narratives in my head about random experiences and quotes for future books I will probably not write. I harbor a 15 year old girl in my psyche and like to solve world issues when I'm half asleep. View all posts by samlobos

15 responses to “Insert foot in mouth

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