So last night, after BV’s blow off, I was a sad cat. I could have gone out and met a new guy, but – that’s not what happened. I’ve been texting a lot with my friend, let’s call him Miles Away, because that’s how far he lives from me. Miles and I “met” on match.com, as has become customary in my dating life. He emailed me initially back in late March. I took a vacation to Georgia in early April, we had still been talking vaguely then. He’d added me on Facebook since he got rid of his match account, and we were “present” in each others lives that way. I think we finally had our first date in late May or Early June sometime, I could be off on the timing. I felt an instant comfort with Miles, but not necessarily an instant attraction. He reminds me TONS of my ex boyfriend Tye. Not exactly of course, but he is a compassionate, long-haired musician with a similar silhouette, mindset, and conversational style. Younger than me by almost two years at 25. We had a great date – but my friend who bar tends at the restaurant where we met vetoed him instantly, and I decided against dating him because he lives with his parents – I mentioned him here briefly. Plus, of course, the distance. Because I value honesty and don’t lead people on, I sent him an email letting him know I just wanted to be friends. And so we were.
Last weekend while BV was being a douche and MIA with his bros, Miles invited me to his friend’s lake house (only 30 minutes from my apartment) for swimming/grilling/drinking. I was a little nervous since I didn’t know anyone. As soon as I got there I was instantly at ease. The house was right by the lake, with a charming red barn and a pasture with horses, goats, chickens and a cow named Bess. Miles’ friends were warm, hospitable and fun. Miles and I sat cheek to cheek on a kitchen chair and listened to Skrillex. I shared my beer and they shared their food – grilled steak, chicken and asparagus right on the lake, enjoyed after a gorgeous swim. I couldn’t quite make up my mind about Miles – I was so impossibly at ease with him, laughter came easily and it was friendly, but I wasn’t exactly crushing…
Add beer. And a hammock. An hour after the sun had set, I was cozied up with him, friends had started a fire and things got cuddly. By the end of the night we had settled together on the futon inside watching Louis CK and Jim Gaffigan, laughing and cuddling again. We spent the night entwined in oversize sweatshirts. I left at 5:30 am as the sun was peeking out over the lake.
It hadn’t really occurred to me to kiss Miles, or do anything with him. It was innocent and PG – not that I felt that I owed anything to BV, but at the time, I had been holding out the deluded hope that he would turn out to not be an ass. Miles and I are pretty good friends these days, which means we text each other almost daily and so when I told him about some shit that was going on, he was an empathetic ear, and offered to come visit me and hang out. I hurriedly tried to get my apartment in order, but when he arrived I was in no makeup with undone hair and painting my nails. We listened to good melodic dubstep (shared love) and he took me to dinner (fried pickles)! During dinner we discussed my hookup with my best guy friend and how I had “chosen away” from him to explore things with BV, and how I had told K how much I regretted my mistake but he wants nothing to do with me. Since Miles was in the friend zone, I had been confiding in him about my romantic liaisons and he was always an honest and kind person to talk to who seemed to genuinely care. He observed that I appear “commitment phobic” and that he’d really like to see me “latch in” with someone. I explained my fears surrounding monogamy and commitment, and how I think I’ll know when I know.
Miles works third shift at a factory, so he would have to leave by 9 pm. I said “you should call out of work,” and he did – I was like, don’t do it on my account – but I’m glad he did. Went back to my place, candles were lit, and When Harry Met Sally conveniently was the film I had out from Netflix. Oh interesting. I love the honesty of that oh so classic movie – “men and women can’t be just friends,” which I think is pretty much, almost entirely true. Miles and I proved that when things inevitably heated up and he kissed me. I didn’t resist. It felt safe. He kissed good, I liked how his hands felt, and he has an impossibly well-muscled body I just had to devour. Sex is wonderful and cathartic and it was much much better than what I’d had with BV, or Nick Tornado (story for another time), or even my [former] best friend K.
He stayed the night and spooned me so good. He got along with my cats, enjoying with me all the cute things they do. According to him I am a “beautiful lady” and the things I say are “adorable.” AND PLUS he was so spiritually conscious. He brought up concepts that I try hard to live by like “what isn’t love is fear,” and how you cannot seek or expect happiness from a romantic relationship or any external source; it comes from within – otherwise you’re fucked. He believes the same things that I do, sort of nouveau Buddhist/new age/A Course in Miracles kind of thing. We could discuss it comfortably without going into long, obnoxious diatribes which I hate. And he isn’t emotionally dead like BV, or emotionally unavailable like M.
Morning came, and I made eggs with bacon and fresh fruit, and Irish Breakfast tea. I was in no makeup again. Today his Facebook status reads “fried pickles and candle light.” Ha ha.
PS: I need to read this book.