The past two days have been a whirlwind and an emotional rollercoaster. I have still not fully processed everything and I still have things seared into my memory and other little moments are bubbling up to the surface.

In addition to the emotional upheaval and drama with BFD, I have been dealing with a crushing reality about LP: I think we’re done. I do.

I know I may be overreacting (and I am definitely pre-menstrual), but I just feel it. Despite our wonderfully intimate and loving call late Monday night, I feel separated from him at a time when I need to feel connected to him.

Plus, his ex is using their child as a bludgeon, interfering with his ability to create a life as much as she can. Their custody arrangement is flexible and the kid goes back and forth almost every single day. That means she essentially controls his life. Still.

Somewhat disingenuously as we had set only a general “we’ll be together this week,” I texted him early Friday afternoon to say, “Were we on for tonight or tomorrow?” Forty minutes later, I heard back:
“Huh??? Did we discuss that? I have [the kid] both nights”

Here is the rest:

Me: Yes, on Monday night, we made general plans to see each other. You were confirming [the kid] schedule, but we were on for the weekend. 1:53 PM
LP: Well then i am sorry – i am having a very rough time balancing work and [the kid] and life right now 1:55 PM
Me: I’m sorry, too. I know it’s been rough on you, and I feel like a pest for even reaching out at all. 2:00 PM
LP: Sorry to make you feel like a pest 2:01 PM
Me: Sorry to be one. I want to be an alleviation of irritation and stress for you, not the cause. 2:08 PM
Me: Should we try to reschedule for Sunday or do you need some time to get things back into balance? 2:21 PM
Me: hey, i was just calling to check on you. you seem really stressed. i hope you and [the kid] have a great weekend and that you’re able to unwind a bit. 5:00 PM

So, there you have it.

Though I have not had LP’s voice on here before, it’s not an out of character text exchange. He can be, especially during work hours, very matter of fact. It’s not cold exactly, but it’s not warm either. He’s stressed out and distracted.

More importantly, despite his desire for me, which is deep and unabiding, he cannot balance out his life and his priorities. I am not a priority, which I shouldn’t be at this point.

The difficulty is that I get easily bored and I want him to be available to me. I want to have sex with him. I want to fall asleep in his arms. I am okay having to split time with the kid. I don’t want to see him every day, but I want to see him every week.

That is not happening, and I am not certain that any of it can happen, no matter how much he does want it. Because he does, just not more than he has to work and wants to be there for his child. I am okay with that. I don’t think he’s a bad person — in fact, I think he’s a great person. I am just not willing to wait forever for him to realize how he has to handle the reins. He is afraid right now and he is allowing himself to be manipulated, knowingly, to do the right thing for the kid.

I know that, and again, it’s part of what I love about him. But, it puts me in a difficult situation. While he is putting himself and his needs so low in priority, he is incapable of being the man I need him to be in our relationship.

So, I am stepping back. That does mean, to a certain extent, that I am downshifting how I think about him. For now, he cannot be my first thought if I need an escort or a party arises. He goes from being on the cusp of being my boyfriend — we’d had extensive conversations so he knew that sex = exclusive and monogamous — to man I am dating.

I had tears in my eyes during our text exchange because I know the truth. He’s not ready, though he thinks he is, and I am not ready to wait, though I wonder if he thinks I will.

It felt to me like a valediction. His silence, speaking volumes.

I am probably overreacting. This has happened before and it’s been okay, but he’s suffering and my presence is not helping. I know that. He needs two things — my loving support and my understanding. I know that, too.

Could this all be hormonal freak-out? Yes. But I am not sitting still. I am moving on. I am keeping a connection to him, not cutting him off or anything, but I am going to be dating other people . . . including perhaps BFD.

I know, I know.

BFD would not be the boyfriend either, but I may see if his Damascus Road conversion is real or not. I am not trusting what he is saying or doing right now. It’s nice that he finally appreciates me and see what I always wanted him to see about me — that I am strong and dynamic and successful and that I can be the person he has been looking for. He said to me at one point, “you are now my personal attorney” and I thought, motherfucker, I have always been your personal attorney, you just never allowed me to assume the mantle of handling things for you. The personal attorney thing is about connections, not about work. He said he always wanted to have someone who would be one phone call from anything he wanted. He is an idiot because even the depressed Planner was still capable of managing anything he ever needed. Ugh.

For more than a year, I could have made his life easier, less stressful, and he never appreciated me. He tried to turn me into something else, never seeing who I actually was, although I was with him on the mistaken journey. He thought he knew better about everything and all of his failed thinking is coming back to haunt him.

I was happy that he needed me because I knew (a) I could help, and (b) I was gaining his respect by doing it. He needed me at the single lowest moment of his life and there is real power in that, which I never had in our relationship. I liked having power over him and power in our relationship. Frankly, he liked it, too. He wanted me to act to do and I never did.

The truth of it all is that I am single-ish again. I hope I am wrong about LP and that he regains some semblance of control and figures out how to integrate me into his life. In the meantime, I am keeping all of my options open, including BFD.

BFD and I spoke late yesterday. He was definitely feeling better. He asked what I was doing this weekend, which is needless to say something he’s not asked me in a so long I don’t know if he ever did. I told him my plans to the symphony with N canceled, so I was not yet sure, but open, as was he, so he said “we should do something tomorrow.” Really? I said, okay, maybe a movie tomorrow. We talked about the workout I was skipping and then hung up. We spoke again once more and he’s chagrined but better.

This afternoon, I shot him a revised offer via email, but he responded back that he was not feeling well and countered for tomorrow afternoon. Knowing him as I do, we’re not on for tomorrow either, and I am already seeing A and possibly BP. Still, I accepted, knowing it costs me nothing since he will most assuredly cancel on me.

We are becoming friends in a way we have never been. I am still thinking of him very much as my ex. I am also accepting that I am his best friend. I am wary, but open to him. I do not forget that he walked away as I cried two weeks ago, that I then sat with LP and felt him hold me so tightly I could feel his arms on my ribs as he whispered in my ear.

I know who I am, for the first time in a long time. The last few weeks have been eye-opening for me and I am much less self-involved and much more open and loving to the people in my life. I feel different, more me. Part of that is the breakup with BFD, part of that was the loving warmth and acceptance from LP, but most of it is me getting a fucking grip.

I have no idea if I have a future with LP, and I fear I do not. I have no idea if BFD could be a changed man, understanding he needs to be tethered and corralled in order to be fully free. I have no idea what the next few weeks or months will bring.

What I do know is who I am, what I want, what I will never settle for. I am happier being single than being in a relationship that makes me deeply unhappy. I am not settling for less than I deserve, but I am also not closing any doors. I need to make no choices. There is no rush.

That’s what LP called me tonight as we wrapped up a short, intense call.  We have not spoken in over a week and we’ve been texting sporadically while he’s been working so much.

This evening, I had begun to get irritated, and I started to think about dating and whether I would tell people I were available and whether I’d see BFD again.

In short, I was being spoiled and cranky.

Around 1115, I was in bed, on the computer thinking through my very strange days when I got a text from LP that he was home, which was a surprise (to me).

He had pulled an all-nighter last night, out of town, and flew back tonight from the east coast, a long trip.  He texted when he he got home, after he crawled into bed, thinking about me.  Of course.

I was still up, so we texted for 15 minutes, driving each other to distraction, then a 6:30 minute call.  We are nothing, if not efficient.  I love to hear his voice, to hear him breathing, to know that he loves my “beautiful face” and how I kiss.

Lying here in the dark, I listened to him tell me his plans for when we are actually together again. I asked him something specific, and he said, “anything you want, I will do.”  And he means it.  I know he wants to make me happy.  I want to make him happy.

We have not yet had sex.  We have really not come close to having sex, but now after 5 weeks, we cannot wait to at least begin moving down that path.

As we were wrapping up the call, we just wanted so desperately to reach out to touch each other, separated by a whole three miles.  He was completely exhausted, but I was tempted to say, put your jammies on and pick me up. Let me spend the night with you.  But I didn’t.

Instead we talked calendar — he has to find out when he has the kid (and said, since it was then 1130, that it was too late to call) — and just luxuriated in the sound of the other’s voice and breathing.  I told him how much I missed him and how I’d not reached out, knowing how busy he’d been.  He was grateful for my thoughtfulness.  We called each other sweetie and just paused and breathed in and out and listened to the other, talking about how much we can’t wait to see each other.  He told me that he loved just getting a drink with me, just hanging out.  I reminded him how much I loved falling asleep in his arms.

It’s late and I am tired so I can’t remember the transition, but he called me “my love,” and it hung there briefly, but we smiled into it.  There was no real tension to it, but he was tired and it slipped out.  We’re not there yet, but we will be.  It felt natural and organic, almost more than him calling me by my full first name earlier.

Even after we said our final good night, we kept the line open for a few seconds.  I need that connection.  I missed his voice, I missed how I feel when we’re connected.  I missed his intensity.

I have been so confident about our connection since we met.. Since we reconnected. Since we began actually seeing each other.

It’s scary for me to trust my instinct, but it feels solid and true and real and serious.  He knows it, too.  We agreed to be open and honest, despite how very scary it is to be that vulnerable.

This week, our relationship will be changing at least slightly.  We will become physically intimate.

We are both grammar nerds and we are often texting, which we can do no matter what calls we’re on or meetings we are in.  I have often teased him about using the conditional mood instead of the future tense: “I could do …” “I would do …” I always speak to him in future tense: “I will see you tonight” “I will kiss you”

We are still early in this, still figuring it all out, but I know we will get closer and we will continue to enjoy each other.

I have floated home.  Okay, maybe not floated, but I am still beaming 3 hours after I last kissed LP.

LP works absurdly hard and right now, his schedule is insane.  He is working 7 days a week, often 18 hours a day.  Needless to say, we don’t have a lot of time to spend together.

This morning, I knew I’d be downtown tonight, so I texted to say that I will be downtown for a show, I will carve out 10 minutes to kiss you, and I will brook no refusal.

It was audacious, but our thing is to be vulnerable, open, expressive, honest.  I wanted it to happen, so I told him it will.  I heard nothing back.  5 hours later (2 hours before I was heading downtown) I texted him “Will be downtown at 730, when can you spare 10 minutes.”  I specifically asked him when, not if.  Again, I heard nothing.

My plans with my friends went a little sideways, so I decided to head down at 830 intead of 730.  At 745, I got a text “I am here.”  I told him about the delay, but he said he may go home since he’d been in the office since 330 am.  Yikes.

I told him I’d text when I was 10 minutes out, but that I understood if he went home and to bed.  I got ready assuming I’d not see him, but I still wanted to look kinda cute (black pencil skirt, bright 3/4 t-shirt, black cashmere v-neck, patent ballet flats).  On the bus, I texted him that I was 10 away and he replied back that he was “still here” and would go downstairs.  We text flirted until I disembarked.  Somehow, we missed each other, so he walked up to me still in full view of his lobby.  I waited to hug him until we were slightly obscured.

There is something so perfect about wrapping my arms around him.  He’s adorable and handsome and just present.  I hugged him tightly while I said, “you look terrible!”  Because he did — drawn, exhausted, grey.  He said, Oh, that’s awful!” He said I looked great, and “snazzy.” I kissed him and I held his hand and he said, “okay, let’s grab a drink,” which is odd since he really does not drink, nor do I.

As we walked across the street to a brand new bar next to the place where we met, he said, I have to tell you what’s happening . . .  [with growing excitement] and you’ll understand because you’re a lawyer!  I smiled at him, thinking, yeah, not bloody likely, but take your best shot.

The place was empty, except for a sole bartender, so we sat at the bar, ordered cocktails (which is unusual because neither of us really drink) and he started to tell me everything that was happening and why he’s working so much etc.  It was fascinating, actually, managing his work, managing the egos of his partners, etc.  He’s a big deal and it is hard because he’s still relatively young to have so much responsibility.  He also told me that he had another insane deadline after this one — and he’ll be traveling.  Grrrr.

He vented for 10 minutes straight about work, grateful that I understood him — both what the issues are and what he needed, which was was to vent his frustrations to someone who cares.  I kept my hand on his thigh as he spoke.  At one point, I asked if it was okay, and he grabbed my hand, squeeezed it, and moved it higher up his thigh.  From time to time, we kissed.

When he finished, he was so grateful that I care for him, that I held his hand, and stroked his thigh, and was present for him as he spoke.  He is himself with me — dramatic and quirky and arrogant, but very, very real. Because I know what he does, because he tells me his interactions with other people, I know he can be hard and demanding, but I know that like me, all he really wants is to be loved and accepted and understood. No matter the surface, that’s the reality.

He finished telling me how horrible everything is that work is so crazy that he’s not seen his kid, his therapist (and forgot to cancel — leading the therapist to freak out a little and call him “to make sure you’re not dead”), or remembered to call his father for his birthday.

Then he turned to me  and said okay, tell me about your horrible day, so I did. I told him I was editing it but that I cried in front of BFD because he was making me confront the horrible pressure I am under while I am trying to get things done and that he walked away from me while I cried.

I leaned in to LP and said, honey, I know we’re kinda narcissists, but our exes are hardcore narcissists and I know [BFD] was incapable of hearing what I was saying or comforting me and that while this was going on, all I knew was that “[LP] would NEVER have reacted that way.” He smiled and agreed and then told me an anecdote about his ex who, when he complained about work, told him to quit his job and then made it about her.

[BFD made the source of my pain about him, which separated him from me in my pain.  It's hard for me to describe how hardened I am towards BFD. His attitude yesterday -- pushing when I needed to be held, questioning when I needed encouragement -- I realized he could never be the man I need or want . . . and that the man I need and want was 10 blocks away in his office kicking ass and taking names.]

LP and I spoke about our spending the night together and how much we loved it and how much we can’t wait to do it again.  By this point, we were kissing a bit, not caring about the bartender, the table of people seated in a banquette behind us, or the strong lighting around us.  We needed to kiss each other, though we avoided a full-on make-out session.

He told me, whispered in my ear actually, when I stood and wrapped my arms around him that he’d had a very intense sex dream about me a couple of nights ago . . . and that I was amazing.  I laughed and said, I did not know if i would measure up to his amazing dream.

He told me toward the end of our time together that he’s glad we’re taking it slow, but he really wants to have sex with me.  Soon.

I am definitely with him on that.

[On Saturday, we started exchanging texts while he worked.  I am often provocative with him, which is something he loves and something I'd not been comfortable being since pre-A.  (With BP and BFD, I would be responsive, but they always initiated it.)  So we came up with a "reward" when he finishes his project.  Frankly, I don't know which one of us is looking forward to it more.]

As we walked outside and kissed on the patio, I told him I wanted to send him more photos.  He’s not on facebook, so his only pictures of me are ones I send him.  He sends me photos regularly, which is adorable, and lets me be a part of where he is and what he’s doing.  He was so happy, even though I let him know they were just pictures and nothing intimate, but he just loves to see my face.

I texted him again as I walked down the street to meet my friends and he returned to the office, to let him know how much I loved seeing him and how amazing it is to share with someone who understands: “That you’re hot and a great kisser is just bonus.”

He was on my mind as I had club soda with my friends before we went to a show.  I spent a lot of time talking about things semi-related to LP and his ex and I slipped and called him my boyfriend and then corrected myself.

But he feels like my boyfriend.  He is the only man I want to see, the only man I want to kiss, and the only man I want to sleep with.  (And at this point, I really want to sleep with him.)  We know enough of each other by this point to expect it will be great.  The passion we share for each other is overwhelming enough to ensure it.

He listened to me, he understood me, and he embraced me.  All of that underscored the horribleness from BFD earlier that afternoon.  LP is here for me, I am here for him, and we are making sacrifices and taking risks just to see each other.  He laughed that he’s not seen or done anything, but he made time to see me.  He said it full of import — he mentioned in the same breath that the kid has wanted to see him for the last 4 days and he has not been able to — but he made time to see me.

We are better together than either of us is apart.  It’s really beautiful so far.

It’s been under a month and I am crazy about LP. To the point of being slightly obsessed with him. When I am with him, I am happy. When I think about him, I am happy. When I see a picture of him, I am happy. (I have one open on my screen now, which he sent in response to our flurry of reconnection emails.)

He is a lovely man — warm, passionate, brilliant, sensitive. I think he’s handsome — I don’t know that he is, but he is to me. I am beautiful to him and when we are together, we are basking the the warmth and glow of a surprisingly wonderful connection on a physical and emotional level.

We have a physical connection that is stronger than sex, which we’re not yet having. When we are together — in the car or in a restaurant or wherever — I caress the back of his neck. And he melts. Every time. It is an obvious thing to me, a tender way to touch him. It’s completely nonsexual, but he just melts into me because it is incredibly loving and affectionate. I started doing it when he was driving, as a way of touching him that was not like his thigh or his hand that should be on the wheel. His reaction was so wonderful that I have kept doing it.

How people like to be touched (or not) says so much about them and he loves to be touched, loves to snuggle in to me, and loves to kiss me. Whenever we’re together, we are touching each other, turned toward each other, and ignoring the rest of the world.

We are trying to not fall hard to fast, to get to know each other first.

Plus, I have three lingering doubts/fears that he is not capable of being who I need him to be:
– that his warm openness is a feint to draw me in but that he’s actually cold
– that he is not ready to settle down again so soon after the end of his marriage
– that he might not want to have another child
None of them are unreasonable. We are older, we are damaged, and there are issues. His situation with his ex is difficult because of their child and the fact that he has a child means we have scheduling problems, but it also means he knows exactly who he is and exactly what he wants. So far, he wants and needs me, which is a little mind-blowing.

I am struggling to keep perspective, but he is more than I thought existed, more than I thought I wanted, more than I thought I could have.

He is passionate and manipulative and tender and dark and light and warm and obsessive and present and withdrawn and this amazing array of characteristics that make me want to spend the rest of my life with my hand stroking the back of his neck, snuggled into his body in bed, and kissing him.

It scares me to think of how easily I could slip into his life. I am already thinking of meals I want to cook for him. I can see mornings in his beautiful light-filled room, drinking coffee while he gets ready for work. Which is kinda cheating since we’ve done that.

He has issues. Big issues.

He also has challenges with his ex. I wish I could tell you who he is and who she is and why it’s all so potentially awful, but trust me here, if our relationship becomes serious (i.e., I meet the kid), there will be drama and it will be ugly and public. She’s famous in our world, an oversharer on twitter, a beautiful charismatic narcissist who is used to having her own way and having LP smooth her path, while denying him credit for the same. Having her be so public with everything adds a whole other layer. There is no easy move for us. I am not her, I don’t play on her field, but I am significantly younger than she (and 4 years younger than he), and there will be issues. His marriage with her was very public. It identifies him in a way, it’s a short-hand that indicates he’s a little more interesting than your average bear. Hell, even I reference her when describing him to my friends . . . literally everyone does it, even he did when I met him for the first time, although it was to offset the result when I googled him and saw a then-current magazine article (which he also mentioned) referencing what a loving wife she is to him and all these photos of their family together, though they’d split 5 months earlier. It has been an important part of her public persona to be successful in her field and have the perfect marriage to a younger man and a child. Everything written about her for the past 7 years talks about her wonderful husband and their whirlwind courtship and it’s disturbing to know all of these things from her perspective. My friends know about their courtship and marriage. I was chatting with one of my girlfriends from school who now lives here and when I mentioned what she did, my friend named her immediately, with an oh my god oh my god oh my god! Yeah, awesome.

So we do have this specter of his ex hanging over our heads and their kid and the fact I am not her, which probably makes him a little less interesting, but much much happier.

Plus, my ex and I are not completely over, and we, like, they, have an ongoing interaction thought it’s business and not personal, aside from the fact that BFD is re-wooing me. Then we have BP in the mix and I certainly bring my own weirdness to our new relationship.

I like to think we’re keeping it quiet but we’re not. We are publicly together in town, kissing in restaurants, holding hands on the street. We are not being discreet.

They are very much done, but they still have to interact nearly daily thanks to their bizarre custody situation which leaves the kid moving back and forth almost every other day, although LP’s been without her for days under the crushing weight of work he has to accomplish by next Thursday. (It’s not just him, it’s dozens of lawyers at his firm, but he’s lead counsel and it’s his deal.)

She wants him back. She tells everyone this. He left her after being miserable for years, for a chance to be happy. Knowing it would damage his kid, he still chose to leave. Because the kid is the most important thing in his life and being a great father to her is the most important thing in his life, that he left is a testament to how bad it was.

He told me his therapist said he could not have found anyone than her who was less perfectly suited to make him happy. She was everything wrong for him and he was miserable and bitter and angry.

I know all of this. I have known all of this since he approached me last February. Frankly, it scared me a bit when we met, this handsome, complicated man with all of this baggage.

It’s difficult because I know it’s not a simple matter to fall for him. He’s complicated. He’s complicating. My life with him will have weirdness and drama that has nothing to do with us, in addition to our own stuff.

I am going into this as I told him I would — eyes open, heart open, and arms open. He is amazing, and he is amazed by me, that I exist in the world — someone he cares for who cares for him, someone he can talk to who understands, someone who could love all the light and dark places, someone with whom he can be sensual and intellectual and playful.

We have acknowledged from the beginning that this is real and it is so real it’s scary.

On our actual first date, he told me horrific things, he scared me intentionally, to see if I would leave, to see if I would flinch. Instead, I do what I have done with him: I literally and figuratively embraced him. I have told him about my complications — my poverty, my ongoing business and personal relationships with my exes, who also want me back, but on their terms, and my damage.

We were both starved for attention and affection, having been with extremely narcissistic partners. We look at each other and see a depth of everything that we had been missing.

Since we reconnected, the song often playing in my head is an acoustic cover of Mario’s “Let Me Love You.” The chorus is:

You should let me love you
Let me be the one to give you everything you want and need
Baby good love and protection
Make me your selection
Show you the way love’s supposed to be
Baby you should let me love you, love you, love you

Yes, it’s completely on the nose, but it’s lovely, especially as sung by Charlotte Church, of all people.

So, I am standing on the precipice, knowing I am going to fall for him, afraid of the damage that awaits, by buoyed by the loving manner in which he embraces me. I am scared, but amazed he exists and that we found each other, that we persisted and never forgot each other, and that he is here in my life, holding my hand, and melting under my touch.

LP, who had been working like mad all week and weekend and moving and being a dad, wanted to pick me up at 9 after he’d wrapped up at the office on Sunday night to show me his new house.

He was delayed and it was starting to get late. Before he arrived, after confirming he’d be picking me up, he texted “Can you stay over?”

Well, that was unexpected, although I had mentioned to him when he was in his sick bed that I wished I had stayed. Still, it’s a school night and he goes to work ridiculously early, so I responded back, yes, I can, and threw a toothbrush and moisturizer into my purse, just in case.

We are taking the sex thing slowly, deliberately, so I knew he just wanted to spend the night wrapped around me, and, I agreed, knowing my period had just started, which took sex absolutely off the table.

He was visibly exhausted when he pulled up, and I slid into the car, and he held my hand on my lap. I told him quickly about my situation. He was disappointed, but recovered quickly. We would not have been having sex (this is only date 5, after all, and we’d agreed to slow slow slow), but it certainly limited the range of options.

His new house is about 15 blocks from my building, maybe fewer. It’s a straight shot from my neighborhood to his, so we held hands and talked a little in the car, and he told me that, in the spirit of full honesty which we have pledged [er, we did??? I think I pledged vulnerability and no games, which is a little different than full honesty, thinks the woman kinda-sorta-maybe still dating her ex boyfriend/potential business partner/owner of her once and perhaps future car], I would not be the first female in his bed in the new house. I told him as long as she was not over 8 years old, we’re fine. Otherwise, I laughed, we were going to have a problem.

He pulled up to his back gate and parked, telling me the first change he would make to the house. He walked me through the garden and the house looked so beautiful. He had clearly been home to change before he picked me up because our path was beautifully illuminated. It’s charming, an historic home that has been well remodeled and updated, and he loved showing me the very quick tour. The house contains nothing but his study and his bedroom at this point. Every other room is empty. When we reached his room, he started to kiss me passionately. I stopped him, so he could show me the bath and closet. He laughed, and said, you want me to finish the tour??? Yes, of course, as I’d already been kissing him in each room.

With the tour concluded, we kissed more passionately and got ready for bed. He stepped into the closet to change into pajamas and hang up my jacket and I just took off my clothes, leaving on my underwear and borrowed a big soft t-shirt from him. He climbed into “his side” of the bed, and I surprised him by climbing on top of him, and completely taking over the reins, kissing him, teasing him, etc. as we talked here and there. He said, you know, I know your secret . . . you are incredibly sweet. You are just incredibly sweet, and I know you don’t want people to know that about you. You have this hard surface, but you’re just an m & m. I reminded him that’s we’d agreed on the “first date” that he was an m & m encased in another m & m. I told him I expected him to keep my secret. He is right that I am far more open and loving than I want people to know. I prefer to feign indifference — see, for example, my relationship with BFD — rather than open myself up. So far, with LP, I am going open and vulnerable and it’s scary as hell.

Finally, after about an hour, he stopped me before anything got too far along, saying, “you’re amazing, but we know we’re good at sex, . . . let’s see how we do with snuggling.”

[The "we know we're good at sex" comes not from experience with each other. We know that we're very open and evolved sexually. We have shared a lot of things and we are very compatible. We have had relationships that replaced actual intimacy with sex, as he said last night as he held me tightly against him, and he is righter than he knows with BFD. So that is the primary reason we are both waiting. I drew a hard line because of my monogamy thing and he has listened carefully. I told him on our first date that I am only having "sex" with him if he is my boyfriend and he has respected that. As he considered the line I drew before our official first date, holding the line as I wavered a bit, he realized that we needed to postpone sex. No matter how challenging it is. And it is, especially when we're each barely dressed in bed.]

With that, he wrapped his arms around me, held my hand, kissed my neck, and we started talking in the dark. A few minutes in, I said, you know, I was very angry with you this week. I heard nothing from you at all for 5 days. I know you’re busy, but you should have shot me a text or something.

I stopped speaking. I think he started to apologize. I do know that I started to turn towards him to look at him and kiss it away and he stopped me. He said, this is important to you and I need to feel and process this. Then he was quiet. Finally, he said, “You’re right, you know. You’re asking me for a de minimus nothing response and I did not even do that. I am so very sorry.” I told him I know, but I knew that if I told him, he would do better. He pulled me even tighter to him. I also said to him, look, I am a very good Penelope, but I don’t want to live that life anymore. I mean, I can do it for a time, but that’s not what I want. [Meaning, I will wait for you while you conquer worlds, but I am unsatisfied doing it for long periods of time. Be here with me.]

We spoke a little more, mostly about light things. He told me that he loved our 4th date, our quick dinner downtown, and he loved the fun of being somewhere new that was better than we’d expected. It felt to the two of us, and I cannot remember if he said this, but this is what he meant and how I felt, the closest to real life of anything we’d done up until last night. It was a relationship date, with us out exploring a new place together, etc. It’s the kind of thing we both want to do, to be together sharing new experiences. That we both need and want that is telling.

Still embracing me and holding my hand, he fell soundly asleep.

I did not.

New bed, new place, new guy. It’s been years since I have slept in bed with someone, which I told him before he nodded off. It took me a couple of hours to fall asleep. I was in pain, having a bit of an allergic reaction, and it was hard to relax fully. He was tossing and turning a bit, but in his sleep, he sought me out no matter our positioning, held my hand or my arm or my thigh, kissed the top of my head. At times, I became his pillow, with his head on my back or resting on my shoulders. It was sweet and tender and wonderful.

I did not mind lying next to him in the dark, although I did get up at one point to check my purse and his bathroom and closet for a benadryl, tylenol pm, or even an aspirin. I had only excedrin, which would have been counter-productive. I did glance at his closet and saw his beautiful wardrobe. Unlike BFD’s closet or BP’s, LP’s closet is slightly messy and his elegant ties were slightly rumpled. (As he walked out, dressed, this morning, he acknowledged the same, while pointing out his “goth” look, which it was for a gorgeous Italian ensemble, but he said he figured, eh, I just moved and I worked all weekend.)

Still in the closet which is between the bedroom and the bathroom and still bored, I flipped his wallet open to check his birthday. I know that sounds strange and I could have just asked him when he awoke, but I wanted to know his astrological sign. Weird, right? We are a significantly better match than me and BFD. In fact, he’s the same as A and as W: “This is a most exhilarating combination. You both share the same likes and dislikes. You are both always on the go, craving excitement, love and fun. This is truly a link made in heaven. . . . Your common interests and lusty passionate nature bring about outrageous social and sexual encounters.” So far, so good.

He is a very solidly built man. He is not skinny like Q the model, nor muscular and cut like BFD, but he has a great shape and a little belly, a slightly shorter version of A — nice broad shoulders, but very solid, very manly, not unlike many of my relatives. I can easily wrap my arms around him, which I did when I needed to have him switch positions while asleep. Because I had a decent amount of time to look at him unobserved as he slept, I can say definitively that I think he’s handsome and, as I told him this morning, when I was resting my head on his shoulder, I am really crazy about him.

I awoke him before 5 am the next morning inadvertently. I needed to go to the bathroom. I also needed to remove, to the best of my ability, the mascara and eyeliner now migrated under my eyes. I went to bed in full makeup, but since I wear mineral stuff, I was not concerned about a transfer to the pillows or a desperate need to wash my face. Because I was i there for a while, he became a little concerned when he awoke. I climbed back in and he nodded off for a couple of minutes and we kissed and talked for a few minutes until he decided it was time for coffee. It was only 530. He told me to stay in bed and he made decent coffee. I like it a little stronger, but whatever. We talked and laughed (he’s really hilarious and wildly inappropriate and a performer, of course) and watched news and then mtv until he decided he had to take a shower and get ready for work. We talked about décor decisions and I gave him my opinion about something I thought would work even better than he was thinking and he liked it. He loves that I love his house.

I could see myself spending significant time there . . .

As I put back on my earrings, I mentioned that I’d been very careful to leave no evidence of my presence. (I’d worn minimal jewelry in the first place and I’d made sure there was nothing that said a woman had been present — unflushable wrappers went back into my bag because I did not want his kid to be aware that someone had been there. It’s up to him to tell her at some point and there is no reason for me to do that, and certainly not so soon.) He teased, okay, but you know, I would have just added it to the pile of earrings, panties, and [sex toys] other women leave behind.

Yes, very cute. I called him a brat, which he said no one ever says about him, which I find incredibly hard to believe.

I made the bed while he was showering, stretched a bit, and was getting dressed as he came back out, looking all kinds of hot in his very fabulous lawyer ensemble. As I was not fully dressed, this meant he needed to make out with me again for a couple of minutes.

He loved having me with him and he told me again and again how attracted to me he had been since the beginning. He thinks I am beautiful and he’d fantasized about me since the night we’d met, joking about his own ridiculousness that he could not stop thinking about a woman “living with some other dude.” He spends a lot of time talking about my overall hotness and how he cannot believe he has such a hot woman — in his bed, in his room, in his car, half-naked, etc. As he is an attractive man who is ridiculously well-paid, he could easily replace me with a younger, hotter, still appropriate woman, but I do appreciate the sentiment and I love that he loves my body and thinks I am very hot. I feel more attractive because I am more attractive to him. It’s a wonderful thing.

We really had a lovely morning and a quick, no traffic drive back to my place and he was still at his office before 7 am. As I sat here, in my own bed, contemplating the night, and writing this out, I could smell his cologne on my skin from when I had hugged him, and I loved it. I texted him the same, still before 6 am.

Other items of interest: he deleted his fb account because it was challenging when he was going through things with his ex, and apparently he had/has a stalker who also tracked him on fb (okay, so that we have in common); and he’s very obviously deeply engaged in therapy. He had three books that I saw that each related to issues with which he is dealing with his ex and his parents — narcissism, codependence, and recovery. A little scary, but he is dealing with them and I would much rather have LP as the open loving man he is confronting these issues than in deep denial about them. At some point, I will ask if his therapist is okay with him being in a relationship. I believe the answer is “no,” but I am a little fuzzy on BFD’s therapist vs LP’s. A too is in therapy. I do not drive them too it, but I do tend to have some enlightened men in my life. I think he said his therapist told him no relationships for a while, but again, that could have been BFD or A.

Last night, I was steeling myself to spend time alone, missing him, still a little angry. Now, I know we’re doing very well. Our big challenge is continuing to keep the physical/sexual side of our relationship in check while we get to know each other, which frankly is a great problem to have. He has to deal with his ex and his work and keeping everything in balance; while I continue to juggle the men in my life, but after spending our first night together, I am so excited about more nights to come.

LP is gone, I guess. It’s been since Sunday since we’ve spoken and we have no plans for the weekend.

Over five days, I texted him twice and called him once and left a voice mail.

I am somewhat devastated that he went from hot to cold, even though he’d warned me this would happen with his schedule. Even though I know how hard his work is right now. I have less sympathy for him, even though he “has” to work (unlike BFD or BP or N). I don’t know why I feel that way since they all work like crazy all the time and he actually has to work to maintain his lifestyle. I think I am just hurt because it was so fucking abrupt to go from 75 texts a day to no response.

Zip.

Nada.

In contrast, BFD, who is a terrible boyfriend even under the best circumstances, never called much, so when he didn’t call, I did not feel his absence so acutely.

Last Friday, I was kissing him openly in an empty downtown restaurant, holding his hand as we walked down the street, and making out with him in his parking garage elevator, garage, car, and in front of my building.

I know he’s not really gone. Even if he were to disappear, there is no way that a man who has thought about me for months, who loves kissing me and wants to have sex with me very badly, would just abandon me so quickly before we’ve slept together . . . which we’re waiting on, for a while, if he reappears. Seriously, he wants to sleep with me, so I know he’s not gone-gone.

He mentioned this on our last date that his next relationship needs to respect his crazy work schedule and that he appreciated that I reached out, knowing he would not respond back. I am not certain I can do this again, though I am particularly well-suited for such a relationship.

This started last night as a very different post.

I was thinking about BFD and how it felt to reconnect with him again this week as his girlfriend, not his friend/business partner/workout buddy/lover for the first time in months. That’s what’s been happening. He is suddenly aware again that I am here, that he needs me to be involved in his life. He had been missing me and our connection. We have not seen each other — so much of our life together is over email and the phone — but it has felt very different all of a sudden.

I . . . felt really great about it, actually. I teased and cajoled and praised and criticized and reassumed the mantle as his girlfriend. He was sweet and kind and loving and affectionate and warm and supportive. Everything clicked back into place. We made (and canceled) plans for this week. We made plans for next week. He told me about his plans for this weekend, prepared for me to give him a hard time. Instead, I was enthusiastic and loving and allowed him to be him without making it about us.

BFD is very close to his young nieces/nephews. He sees them at least every 2-3 months, taking them to amusement parks and spoiling them completely. I believe the oldest is under 8. They play with him, they crawl into bed with him, and they make him a completely different person than he is normally. He just lets go and embraces that side of himself and just allows the love. As someone who loves him, I love that he has them in his life. He bought them a gift on our first date and I have known their names nearly as long as I have known his.

So, he told me, I am flying [here] for the weekend, and I said, oh? why? and he said, steeling himself, “To take them trick or treating . . . “

And I embraced him with love. I wanted to know first, what was he going to wear. He said they would be dressing him, so whatever they said, goes. I said, might you be in a dress? He said, laughing, whatever they want.

I know these multiple sides of him, but I’ve not seen this loving BFD in a while. It was clear, he’s not felt this in a while. When I mentioned I’d had an incredibly tough week, he countered, he’d had an incredibly tough three weeks. I smiled and said warmly, well, sweetheart, you’ve had a really tough five months . . .

Now, I was thinking, as I said it, you have know idea how tough my week is compared to yours. You are concerned about timelines and employees and finance [and very specific things related to his industry]. And I am worried about food and shelter. But, I rarely tell him how desperate my existence is because I don’t want him to save me (more than he already has). I want him to be with me because he wants to be with me and not out of a sense of obligation or to decide to not be with me because things are too chaotic.

But, he knows things are bad, which is why he said, softly, Plan, you need to get my deal closed.

Yep.

So, we made general plans for next week, involving “fabulous sex,” I teased him about what he was eating — asking if it were again that revolting broccoli cheese rice concoction — “I love that!” but no, this was something actually resembling food — a frozen indian dish — he’s shopping better, and paying more attention to nutrition, but I still expressed my strong disapproval for his overall eating habits. This is part of his life I have wanted to own, and part he wants to cede to me. And yet, we’ve never quite gotten there.

We spoke about the workout and I told him about parts of the conversation I’d had with the trainer and it was very clear that the trainer had not said anything to BFD about the “was” “dating” part, but it also seemed that they did speak of me, because BFD asked if I’d be working out on Saturday and could I give the trainer a message that he was gone for the weekend but would be back. When I told him I’d be with my young out of town relatives visiting a monument, he was charmed again, and said he’d shoot him an email.

It was hard to hang up.

But we did and I was warm and happy.

It’s hard to know what is in BFD’s head because he keeps his own counsel, but I felt very close to him, very involved and engaged, and it was clear he’d missed me when I stopped calling. He has been slowly reaching back. Cute email Monday morning, a couple of phone calls throughout the day, provocative email exchange in the late afternoon.

So, I am going to be dating BFD again. That does not mean I am not dating other people or that we will be exclusive, but I will be dating him again. I remember clearly how it felt before and I felt some of that again, but we are not there now and we have not been for a while.

BFD and I went on our break so he could deal with some significant issues — including the fact that he is not ready to have a family of his own. Were he to change his mind, then I might have to reconsider things. If not, he will continue to be my friend, he may continue to be my lover (though it’s been 5 weeks since we’ve been together and I can’t even remember the last time we kissed . . . 3 weeks ago maybe? 4? I do know I have gone out on dates with two other men since then, maybe 3).

So, he’s back in my life, but I am still holding him at arm’s length. I am not calling him, not inviting him to events, not engaging him on things. I miss the relationship we had and could have had. The fact that it feels really good does not mean it is really good, or that the last 8 weeks did not happen. He hurt me and that pain exists. Those scars are there. Could he overcome them? Sure. Has he? No. Does he know that? At this point, it’s unclear.

This week, he indicated he’s back and he wants to start making plans with me again. He still has a shot, but he also has competition. What I realized is that being with him as it had become made me deeply unhappy. I also realized I deserve to be happy and that there are certain things that are truly not negotiable.

None of this may make sense since there is no context as I have not posted the interim stuff, but for the past couple of days I have been freaking out because LP, the new guy, has gone completely silent.

After one week of constant interaction (and three dates) and a second week of tempered interaction because of his insane schedule (and an adorable date, during which he clearly demonstrated that he is crazy about me, and a last minute cancellation on a second date because of work — he even brought his kid to office on Sunday as he worked), he has gone silent.

After he canceled, and while he was working, I sent a message that could have sounded bitchy to him — I used “if” instead of “when” telling him to call when he was free to reschedule — something he would have noticed and over which I obsessed for three hours after I sent it — and then a message hours later awkwardly clarifying and apologizing. No response to those messages, no response to the brief, thinking of you, hope all you survived all the chaos, I sent today, two days later.

No response.

Needless to say, I have been dying inside. It was amazing and then it was gone. When I say amazing, here are two moments from Friday.

First, he took me to a late dinner though he had, unbeknownst to me, 8 more hours of work to do and a full complement of attorneys and staff awaiting him at his office. I teased him, after he kissed me passionately as we rode the elevator in his office’s parking garage that he did not kiss me in his office, which is when he told me they were all upstairs waiting on him and that they’d been calling every 15 minutes until he finally turned off his phone. When I asked him why, he said, well, I needed to eat and I missed you.

Second, we had a wonderful talk that night about me, my business, and he was excited and proud of who I am and what I do, and the sacrifices I have made. He was talking about how he would be integrating me into his life and an opportunity that had arisen the week before I called him — a dinner he would have loved to have taken me to and a business opportunity presented there for which he thought I’d be perfect. He kept saying, you should have called me the week before!

We also kissed in the restaurant, the elevator, his car . . . he was passionate, and affectionate, and warm, and loving (to use his term). We made plans for a late brunch on Sunday, which he canceled on Sunday.

And then he disappeared.

He is working like crazy — you know, like making staff work with him until 4 am on a Friday night crazy and continuing to work all weekend, etc. But still, he disappeared.

How hard is it to shoot a text? Seriously.

He knows I get skittish. He knows when I sense he’s withdrawing, that I withdraw. So, he withdrew, so I obsessed and fretted and freaked out and started to withdraw.

I maintained silence for like 48 hours until I shot him a thinking of you text. Still no response.

Yesterday, 24 hours into his silence, I received a cute email from BFD, with whom I’d had a good conference call last week and from whom I’d received deal revisions at 1145 on Friday night — an email to which I responded promptly, showing him I was home, too. So Monday morning, I got a cute forward of a video, then he called me to talk an hour later, a little business, but mostly checking in since I have absolutely stopped calling him ever, and then four hours later, I got the email.

The email was short and to the point, and said essentially, we need to have sex, how’s tomorrow night? It was actually sexier than that (to me) — and demanding, which I find a turn on. I responded back, and then we just exchanged email for an hour. I had agreed, of course. It has been a month since we have had sex, he is just coming off our scheduled break, and I am not sleeping with anyone else (I have not even seen LP with his shirt unbuttoned, no less naked). Also, he’s good in bed and no amount of pet names will backslide me into a relationship-relationship, but we’re friends and the sex is great — and safe.

So I am at a crossroads . . . and I am dangerously bored.

I just wrote a very long post about last night’s date with LP. The long version has a 2114 word count.

The short version is we grabbed a late dinner downtown, made out in the elevator as we picked his car up from his office, and he drove me home and then returned to the office for 8 more hours of work, after having made all of his employees wait and work while we had dinner. He also turned off his bb, so they were really happy.

I am already crazy about him. He is incredibly warm and supportive, tender and loving, and all of his crap about trying to scare the hell out of me to scare me off, gone. We’re very connected, very physical, very attracted to each other.

He sincerely believes I am beautiful, which I am not, but he is so convinced that I am beginning to believe him. Being beautiful in his eyes is making me more confident, happier, and probably more beautiful. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am pretty, and I have a great body for which I work very hard, but I do not think of myself, nor do I think others think of me, as beautiful. Except he does, so I live beautifully within his gaze.

So far in this relationship, I am zigging where I would have zagged and I am trusting my first impulse instead of overthinking. In fact, I am not thinking anything other than, this feels amazing and I want to be with him forever. I know I won’t feel like this forever, but right now I am deliriously happy to be with him. There are no tactics, no games, no thoughts of if I make this move, he will react this way. I will know some of that more as time goes on, but right now, everything I do, he responds to. He’s like a puppy. I am always touching him — his hand, his shoulders, his neck, his face. I caress him regularly and he melts. All I am trying to do is be present within our relationship. When I withdrew from him on the “first date,” he responded to that, too.

We are deliberately reckless in using the world love: “I love that you, I love this about you, you are loving, I love when.” We are damaged and flawed and yet open to falling for each other.

And the kissing. The kissing is unreal.

We’ve not had sex. We’ve not come close to having sex. We have made it to “second base” making out in his car, and we’re not in (much) danger of having sex. We have spoken extensively about sex, confirmed std status, and shared a lot of intimate things on the phone, including the fact he’s fantasized about me since we met.

I just had a very short, very wonderful date with LP. He’s lovely and amazing. I am trying not to be giddy, and I am failing miserably.

I had not seen him since Sunday night, when I laid next to him in bed for over an hour while he was nauseated and miserable. Since then, we’d spoken once very briefly and texted briefly, compared to the week before. I missed him so much, which made me want desperately to see him, and to think I never wanted to see him again.

Today, I reached out around 1230 to confirm when this weekend we’d see each other, knowing he had to work and that his kid would be with him for part of the time. I heard nothing back.

I called him four hours later. No answer. Finally a text seven minutes later, apologizing and asking how I was. We exchanged a couple of texts and I asked if he were tied up for the weekend, so he responded by asking me to dinner tonight.

I thought about it, and of course I accepted. We agreed on 730 and I told him I would meet him at the restaurant he selected. My place is a hovel compared to his, so I figured I was better off meeting him two blocks from his building than having him come here for (what I hoped would be) the making out portion of the evening.

I was a little late because of traffic and he was already seated in the empty restaurant when I arrived. We were so thrilled to see each other. He stood as I entered and hugged and kissed me. It’s hard for us to not beam at each other.

He told me that I was beautiful and how much he had missed me. He said I looked great — and I did
– in an interesting black pencil skirt, a low cut black t-shirt, stilettos. He also noted that I was wearing the same signature jacket I’d worn before with him. (It’s a really fabulous trench that I can only wear in early fall and early spring.) I will have to integrate some others in, now that I know he is actually paying attention.

We caught up on his horrible week, held hands as we flipped through the menu, and he asked what I ate. I told him, I don’t really do carbs, of course, and there is a protein I don’t eat. I glanced at the menu and saw a perfect thing, which sounded great to him, we ordered another thing recommended by the waiter, and then we ordered a third dish, entirely composed of things I don’t eat, which was perfect for him.

He walked me through his house negotiation, and he said, I don’t know if you will like me less . . . or like me more. He described how he had charmed them and flirted with them to get his deal done. I told him, I would have expected nothing less and I thought it was great.

After our appetizer, I excused myself for the ladies room and he made me kiss him before I left, which is a tradition we shall keep.

I love kissing him, way more than I thought I would. I love touching him, way more than I thought I would.

When I came back, he was outside, on the phone, which is interesting since we were literally the only people in the restaurant. The host quickly told me “he’s outside,” and I glanced out and then smiled at the staff and waited, including after they delivered the food.

It was about the house, I think, and he apologized, of course. There are complications and stresses about which he has gone into great detail, but it’s all important and indicates how he thinks through issues.

I spoke a lot while we ate and explained my business to him. The potential success, the terrible failure, why I have structured my life the way I have. He understood and was supportive. He also could not believe the amount of money I would have made and told me he would have never made that. Well, frankly, no one would. It was absurd, but that was why I worked and suffered so long. He was impressed and said, you know, you should have called me during [the event held the week before I did call]. He told me about a dinner he went to, that would have been so perfect. [I touched his hand and interrupted as he told me the people who were there and said, OMG, that's SO cool! He said, enthusiastically, I know!] He said, Plan, you are exactly what they were looking for. I would have brought you to the dinner, and you would have been perfect.

He was right, I would have been perfect. LP’s first reaction to hearing me speak about what I do was essentially: they wanted to hire me, but you would have been perfect for them and I wish you’d been with me for this incredibly cool experience.

Yes, compare and contrast to BFD who did not bring me to things in which I was actually involved. I know.

I gave him a lot of background on what had/was happening (X, BP, BFD, etc.) and why I am so broke now. Since he is a lawyer, he completely understood. Their lawyers in my area of practice have been more than decimated by the economy.

I told LP about BFD’s project that I am working on, referring to him as “my ex.” LP wanted to know specifically which ex. He wants to know everything.

Like BFD, he wants me to know everything about his stuff, especially big financial decisions. He did end up buying the house. He loves the house, the kid loves the house, and they worked out the issue with the house. He said it was more than he wanted to pay, but he’s happy and excited. I still think he overpaid and it’s not what I would have gotten, but he loves it and that is all that matters.

He mentioned that there are some difficult issues upcoming since he needs to get some of his favorite possessions from his ex’s “mansion,” which is a strange thing to say, except it is. He said that he has excellent taste and he saved his money as a young lawyer and bought one very special piece each year (before they were married), so he wants those things back and assumes it will be a fight. He seems to really despise her — she’s controlling, she’s a narcissist (no, like a real one), and she gives him a hard time about everything. They are maintaining a cordial friendship for the sake of the kid, but it’s difficult and painful for him. They married quickly because of her pregnancy, and his therapist has often told LP he could have found no one less suited for him than she. (She was very successful in her field when she was young and has coasted for the last 15-20 from that early success while pretending for the last few years that she was not completely financially dependent upon him. Her “mansion” he is paying for, and all of the best pieces in her house belong to him. I can see why he’s a little bitter.)

Anyway . . .

He “knows” that I have great taste, and he cannot wait to see my place. I can definitely wait. I was going to redecorate last year and put all those plans on hold, so I can show him space plans and swatches, but the place now is very plain. Eh.

He showed me the stack of stapled pages that had been next to him, flipped through it and showed me his notes and said he had 8-9 hours of work ahead tonight (it was now 830) before the document could be sent out Saturday morning. Yes, it was clear to me that I would not be spending the next hour kissing him, which saddened me.

I excused myself after we finished eating. When I returned to the table, I told him that I had two things to tell him: “first, I am not bulimic.” He nodded and laughed, but I think he appreciated me telling him that. At this point, I am very thin and I had excused myself after each course, at each meal we’ve had together. I have learned that people close to me sometimes wonder and I did not want my teensy bladder and constant tea consumption to become a concern. “Second, you’re driving me home.” He said, of course, but wait, how did you get here. When I told him, he was incredibly charmed and impressed, which was very sweet [That's amazing! i am so impressed you did that, it's just so cool."] I explained that I did not have a car, and he thought that was very cool, too.

He is a truly good sport about everything. I told him — I am extremely poor and I have no car and he was supportive and charming. Very impressive, sweetheart.

As we left the restaurant, I turned to walk towards his condo and he turned to walk towards his office. It was in the 60s and I was wearing a jacket, but my teeth were chattering. We held hands, but he was already transitioning back into work mode. I asked him whether I calibrated my reaching out appropriately while he was so stressed and slammed. He thought it was perfect. I said, “look i wanted to be there for you, but I respect what you were doing.” He said, “the next relationship I am in needs to be that . . . whether you’ll be my best friend . . . or something more . . .” And he smiled.

When we got to his building, we walked through the secured lobby and straight to the parking garage elevator. I stepped in and he turned around and said, I’ve never kissed anyone in this elevator, so we kissed passionately as we went up to his floor, knowing the security guards were watching. As we walked off into the elevator lobby, I teased him, saying, I cannot believe you did not take me upstairs to kiss in your office. He said, “well, we’re fully staffed up there right now with [extremely impressive assortment of professionals]” all of whom had been waiting on him to return from dinner. He was supposed to have been back at 830 and it was now 845 and he still had to drive me home. He said “they’ve been calling me every 15 minutes and I finally turned my phone off, so now I am certain they’re freaking out.”

Frankly, I was shocked that he’d taken off to take me to dinner when he had 8 more hours of work to do and an entire staff working all night on a Friday night. He said, “well, I had to eat and I missed you.”

We kissed in the car, of course, since we can’t stop kissing, and he slipped his hand up my pencil skirt, as we drove, which is no easy feat, in order to rest it on my upper thigh. He told me that the drive we went on during our first date was incredibly erotic — it really was — though nothing really happened, we could not stop kissing each other. When we arrived back at my building, only 8 minutes away, we kissed for a few minutes before I sent him off. He kept telling me how beautiful I am. I asked whether he preferred my hair up or down, since I’ve worn it both ways with him and he said, your face is so beautiful I just don’t have a preference . . . and I would tell you if I did!

How completely adorable.

As he has his kid on Saturday, we made definite plans for late Sunday brunch — which I told him would end with some (probably naked) cuddling. We are still not planning to have sex-sex, though we had the std talk, but I suspect we will get a little frisky.

We talked about the new house again and how he looks forward to our christening it. He did tell me I would not be the first girl he kissed there. That honor, of course, goes to the kid.

It amazes me how easily we’ve slipped into a solid relationship. It is solid. There are storms on the horizon — we’re both interacting regularly with our exes, so there are certain things we’re going to want to keep low about how we feel to the exes, but it feels amazing. We’re both temperamental and narcissistic, and used to dating people who are that to the nth degree.