overload

For the past month or so, weekends have been jam-packed with activities. So much so that when Monday rolls in, I feel a sense of relief that my dull little routine will allow for some very necessary rest. This weekend proved no exception.

Continually busy, I simply rolled from commitment to commitment. While it was fun, I do need to be better about ensuring I do carve in weekend down time. I head out to wine country for a long weekend and think that will be just what the doctor ordered to help me establish balance once again.

Things with Nelson continue to be good. We went out on Friday evening and saw each other again on Saturday evening. Sunday morning he made pancakes for breakfast. He is super sweet but part of me fears that he is gearing up to get to serious once the turkey day festivities are over. A case in point is the conversation of his puppy and introducing said puppy to my girls, followed up with bringing the travel crate over. It is the travel crate portion that scares me because I don't want another dog, let alone a spastic puppy running around my house full time on the weekends. I suppose it all about the negotiation, right?  There is also a part of me that thinks I am simply looking for any excuse to cut bait, because when serious comes knocking at the door, this girl bolts.

We have fun. Time flies when we are together. He genuinely cares about me. I love that there aren't any games. Everything is straight-forward and honest. All characteristics I haven't known for an extremely long time. Maybe all I need is to breath deep, calm down and work my angst out here.

a pleasant surprise

This evening marks my sixth date with Nelson. This encounter has caught me by surprise as on the surface Nelson is not what I typically go far, specifically, he isn't tall. But oh is he nice, kind, and so sincere. Conversation flows so easily and time passes so quickly when we are together. It is wonderful.

I feel so at ease with him. There is none of the angst that I had clearly gotten so used to with the weirdness of The Southern Gentleman. I didn't realize how stifled I felt around The Southern Gentleman until this freedom became palpable with each conversation I have with Nelson.

On our first date, he arrived at my door with a pair of soft, fuzzy blue socks in hand. A little joke present for me since he endured my cold feet. He said he saw them at the store and knew I needed them. 

The night before the anniversary of Lulu's death was another of our dates. I found myself overcome with sadness and seriously considered cancelling on Nelson but decided against it. I got myself composed in time for his arrival, but he knew something was up as he inquired as soon as he walked through the door. I was able to live in the moment with him as opposed to remain in "that time" two years prior and we had a lovely time. When we returned to my house, I lost it a bit and the Lulu stories simply started flowing out of me. He was so wonderful throughout that as he understood because he lost his hound girl recently. With most people that would have been a last date, however, he continued to tell me he was so happy I shared that with him. He even sent me a lovely email and poem about it the following day.

Tonight, we are going out again. The second time this week and not the last. I am looking forward to seeing Nelson again tonight.

follow though, otherwise known as a refreshing change

This weekend I attended a few Halloween parties. I knew relatively no one at either, but I felt the need to get the sewing machine out and concoct a costume. Ah, how I love sewing. Especially when I have an idea and simply construct without a pattern. The perfect synergy of creativity and problem solving!

Because I wanted to wear my fabulous blue wig, there was only one costume choice: Katy Perry. I had a great time recreating her California Gurls' candy land dress. Luckily more people recognized who I was this year as opposed to my awesome J-Woww from last year.

During the second party, a man approached me. We talked for awhile and then I felt the need to circulate. During my circulation period, I later discovered that Nelson was busy obtaining G2 on me as well as imploring our mutual friend, Lonnie for assistance because he was not "looking for a hook up but wants to date her [me]." Nelson also expressed concern to Lonnie when he saw one of our married friends grab my bum. Lonnie explained it was one of out harmless marrieds.

Around 2 AM, I had to ditch the costume because the wig was simply making my head hurt and it was getting cold.  Nelson was back on it and we did have nice conversation. We ended up staying up until just short of 6 AM and then retired to the guest room.

I had no intention of sleeping with him, but I was surprised I didn't have to say anything because he beat me to the punch declaring that "there would be plenty of time for that later." I did a double take. While there was a bit of kissy face, there wasn't anything else. Poor guy even let me wear his socks to bed as I was fully clothed and still frozen, especially my feet.

He left mid-morning, delicately retrieving his socks. I stirred long enough to say good-bye and eat a few ibuprofen.  Since Lonnie and I had planned on post-party brunch and she was still dead to the world, I went back to bed.

I didn't stir again until the early afternoon. Lonnie and I enjoyed a thorough debrief of the events of the entire party. During this time, I received a few text messages from Nelson. Clearly, this man does not let any grass grow under his feet.

On Monday, I received more text messages from Nelson. One of which was inquiring if I was available on Wednesday or Thursday this week. Holy cow! I am not used to such behavior! When I told him that Thursday worked better, he replied that he would call me tonight to hash out a plan. A phone call?! Again, holy cow!

And Nelson did call. Of course, I missed it because I turned off the mobile ringer when I was at the gym and forgot to turn it back on afterwards. I snatched up my mobile to look up a word that was in a book I was reading and poof! I saw the missed call notification. He thought I lived on the south side of town and had a whole plan for that, so he was thrown for a curve ball when I clarified I lived on the north end, which is near him. So he will be picking me up at 7 PM on Thursday.

And the adventures continue...

thirty days have november

Holy cow! November is here. Sadly, that means a whole bunch of things in my world and only one of them is that the year is almost over.

November marks my birthday and the anniversary of Lulu's death. Two big things that make me realize how fleeting life truly is. Especially since this will be my last year in my thirties. Now that is a scary thought!

Since all my friends are in Austin, this birthday won't be much simply because I will be in Denver. I reminisce about my fabulous birthday last year; I was in Austin surrounded by all my amazing friends. An evening filled with laughter and love. Happiness was actually palpable.

It is those type of memories that make everything feel so off here. But I remain steadfast in my belief that the correct next step will present itself when I am ready for it.

Once the calendar changed to November, I experience a profound sadness that had lessen in previous months as the second anniversary of Lulu's death stands out prominently. Two years that my darling left me. Unfortunately, it feels as if much more time has passed. I have finally figured out that this hole in my heart will never be filled.

On to happier topics tomorrow!

daily grind

No Bernard stories for y'all as he did not come out on Friday night. At least I looked cute and did enjoy myself regardless.

Work has been busier than usual, which has taken my mind away from such frivolous things as Bernard. Even though I am feeling an itty bit better about the day-to-day work activities, along comes an unnecessary sucker punch that full on reminds me that I must look for another job as of October 1st.

My runs have picked up lately. Clearly, this whole proper half marathon training thing has some form of validity to it. Strenuous activity 6 days a week for 15 weeks has taken a toll on my body recently. The pain doesn't seem to dissipate as quickly as it once did. Oddly, I wake up at 4:45 AM rather bright eyed and bushy tailed, which is truly sick for a non-morning person. Maybe that is changing.

Off to work out and there is a four mile run facing me in the dark hours of the morning.

Ta-ta for now! 

rekindling

I received a text message yesterday from a random phone number.

As I read the message I almost fell out of my chair because it was from Bernard!

Remember Bernard, the Fourth of July man?

He stated that he only got my email today when he logged on to the site, which is completely understandable. But he sent me a message almost immediately thereafter. We talked via SMS back and forth for about an hour. Not anything earth shattering but he made the effort and thus my hope in humanity was restored. Honestly, I was so exited to hear from him.

I may see him on Friday. I am looking forward to that prospect. Now to decide what to wear... that is the kind of problem I enjoy having :)

indelible memories

On August 23, 2011 at 7 PM CT, my life changed forever. I can still tell you what I was wearing, what I did in the moments leading up to the accident.

I had worked a bit late, but was running low on dog food so decided to stop at Tomlinson's to get Lulu more chow. From there I ran into to the fancy HEB to grab a few containers of sushi for dinner. I was in my strapless hot pink Lily Pulitzer dress and strappy nude heels.

I got home and let Lulu out of her crate. As usual, I was greeted with her high energy hello, whip tail wagging a million miles an hour, eyes overflowing with happiness and love. As I approached the french doors in the kitchen to let Lulu out for a potty break, I remember looking at the stove's clock. It read 7:00.

Like usual, I opened the door and Lulu took off like lightening. She was a greyhound after all, so sprinting off the concrete patio onto the lawn at warp speed was her signature. As I was heading toward to the counter to put my HEB finds in the frig, I heard Lulu cry. It was a piercing cry. A noise that let me know immediately and without a doubt that something was wrong with my girl.

I raced out the french door and flew off patio much like Lulu. I found her in the middle of the yard, sitting, her big eyes even larger than normal oozing with fear. The moment I saw her, I knew instinctively that Lu had broken her back leg. Somehow I immediately and gently scooped with my 55 pound darling and took her back to the side of the house, making the very tall step up onto the patio in strappy heels. Sitting her down in the great room, I tried calling Lu's vet but the office was closed for the evening. I called my dog sitting friend for support but she was too far away. I called the emergency vet so they would be ready for us.

I don't know how I got her into the car. I do remember that I immediately began praying because it was just me and her and I needed all the help I could get at that moment. Lulu was in pain but she laid in the back seat and didn't move. I continued talking to her as I drove on eggshells to the emergency vet.

Upon arriving at the vet, I had this big dog in my arms and no way to open the door. I kicked the glass door with my foot. The people at the desk shot me very dirty looks, which I always thought odd as they could see my precious cargo in my arms.

They took her back and I had paperwork to fill out. Unbeknownst to me at that time, this would be just the beginning of filling out medical forms for Lulu. Time drug on, the sun set and came over us. No word on her. It would be close to 10 PM before I finally found out what was wrong.

In the meantime, I watched all sorts of people and animals walk into the emergency room. My favorite was a concerned hippie chick who brought in green storage tub containing a squirrel that she claimed looked and acted confused and disoriented. Animal control brought in a little beige puppy who had a broken paw.

I was finally called in just after 10 PM. The news was the worst. Lulu's leg was broken in three places. Seeing the x-rays glowing on the wall, my heart sank. But I quickly reminded myself this was my amazing wonder Lulu who has always defied the odds when it came to all things medical. After all, she wasn't supposed to walk normally after the sliced tendon, but she not only walked beautifully, she ran faster than ever. Only my Lulu could survive a venomous snake bite. She beat Giradria and canine botulism. Knowing all that my dear girl faced and beaten, I reassured myself that together we'd whip this broken leg too. 

The hospital gave me the choice of taking her home and then to our vet in the morning or leaving her overnight. I decided to take Lulu home. Lulu had always suffered from separation anxiety, so I knew I only had one decision - take her home with me. A night alone in a cold metal hospital crate would be detrimental when the single thing she needed most was to be able to see me and be with me.

Somehow, I got Lulu back into my car shortly before midnight. Carefully we got home to Stepford and unloaded her with the flimsy splint holding her leg together. She was in pain and I was hoping she'd be more drugged up. Poor thing didn't understand what happening and I kept trying to convey the concern and love I had for her through the tone of my voice. For her sake, I kept the crying to a minimum because I didn't want her trying to protect me.

I blocked off an area in the great room around her day bed so she could rest and I tried to sleep on the concrete floor near her. I spent the night counting down the hours until the vet's office would open at 7 AM so I could get Lulu in. 

crickets

And so I sent the little note to Bernard.

Short, sweet and with my phone number.

I have heard nothing. Cue the crickets chirping.

Surprisingly, I am not really disappointed. Of course, I have other concerns that are taking precedence. Silly little concerns like my employment and how to make my current job okay. I don't feel like I can excel in this current role because everything is so status quo... an environment that tells me "do this because that's what we've always done." I need more room to grow and when I expressed this along with a few other things to my boss, he was less than supportive. Now, I have to do damage control until I can figure out the way forward. Right now, damage control isn't going so swimmingly.

I also have to get the home remodel finished. I need to be fully unpacked and organised soon. I just want everything done so I can simply enjoy my surroundings.

Missing Austin has been right up there too. I miss my friends, my Texas life. It is the little things like people aren't as friendly in the shops here... let's be honest people aren't as friendly here in general, which has caused me to close down a fair amount... my former open Texas-ness is slipping away and I am not happy about it.

For the past twenty years, I have been working very hard to leave Colorado. From the moment I applied for university, my sole mission was to leave the state forever. While I successfully leave for short or long periods of time, I always find myself back here.

A few months after I returned to Denver last year, I had an epiphany. After many years and many failed attempts at permanent exodus from Colorado, I realized that maybe I need to learn to be happy here, find happiness here before I can finally be free. The theory makes so much sense to me and forces to me try a little harder every day. Unfortunately, Colorado happiness continues to elude me.

So these are the thoughts and ideas actively swirling throughout my head occupying more space than the sound of crickets from Bernard.

what sound does a chicken make?

Yes, I fully own and admit that at 38 years old, I remain a big old chicken when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex. The simple question I should have asked when I dropped off Bernard but didn't because I said "cluck, cluck" instead of "what's your number?"

And rectifying that oversight should be easy. Just send Bernard a short little note. With my phone number. But I am flip-flopping on that decision like a catfish on land. Ugh! What the &*#% is wrong with me!!

Fear of rejection is definitely a big player here. But then again at this stage of the game, rejection should be on par with discovering a pimple erupting on my face - a non-issue. Somehow though, the fear's grip remains tight. I am sure there are other unconscious/subconscious things going on just below the surface too. Things like the Ghosts of Christmas Pasts and not wanting to make those poor decisions again (I hear fear in that statement. Fear simply wearing another mask.)

But I need to remind myself that mistakes are there to be made to that I learn enough to recognise when the right one walks in. I haven't really been on a date in a long time. I know I need to keep trying, being an active participant but. That's what waylays everything... the damn "but".

I am so tired of being alone. Just me and the two pups. I know I need to do something about it. Baby steps, as my darling therapist of long ago taught me, baby steps.

I need to throw caution to the wind. Write a simple, short note. Push send. And not worry. If Bernard doesn't answer, so what (right?)? But he just may. In reality, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Be brave, Patsy dear. As Nike force feeds you the slogan - just do it!

an evening of unexpected fireworks

Wednesday night a few of us met up downtown at a roof top patio for cocktails and to later watch the fireworks. The group wasn't stellar but a few of my favorite people were in attendance so I was content.

As the evening wore on, we had a new arrival to the group but I really didn't pay much attention as girl talk took precedence. Now, we all know that I am fairly (read: extremely) oblivious to figuring out when boys like me, but after an hour or so of the new guy staring at me, I decided I should pay a bit of attention to Bernard, especially when a few of my friends made a comment about said staring.

Once engaged, he was delightful and was only concerned with speaking with me. Bernard would talk with the others but would be looking at me when answering the others. There was something there, a spark I'd long forgot the feeling of. He was engaging, kind, and everything about him felt so genuine. Bernard eats clean causing me to swoon when he said he avoids processed foods, only shopping in the meat, produce, and dairy departments. He owns his own business and is obtaining another degree to push him over the top - more swooning for ambitious and doing something about it. Bernard is also tall with a good sense of humor and zest for life.

Several times throughout the evening, Bernard stated he was so glad he stumbled upon us. He asked questions to probe my interest. He moved my chair so I would be right next to him.

Then Bernard casually mentioned his age while stating that some of the other bar patrons looked like kids. He is eight years younger than me. Enter the social stigmas and negative perceptions into my mind. Why is it that I immediately found myself thinking he was too young for me? Negative thoughts of being called a young cougar, the judgments.

The double standard of American society that says it is perfectly fine for a man to be with a significantly younger woman but the reverse doesn't apply. I have always been adverse to younger men due to maturity level. But I had assumed Bernard was only a few years younger than me. He has his act together and felt like my contemporary.

At the end of the evening, several of us, Bernard included went back to a friend's house since public transport options were virtually nil that time of night. We played a few games, watched a bit of telly while enjoying a few cocktails. Bernard and I shared a bed but nothing beyond sleeping happened, for which I was grateful.

The morning was made a bit awkward by me since I was in the same clothes I'd been in the night before and slept it and for once in my life I did not have chewing gum so I was embarrassed because I am a girly-girl like that. I dropped Bernard at the light rail station and we had a delightful conversation along the way.

I was waiting for Bernard to ask for my phone number but he didn't and I was too afraid to ask. I am thinking that was due to awkward morning more than anything else.

I truly liked Bernard and would like to get to know him better. I do have a way of contacting him and am thinking I should reach out to him. Open the door to opportunity.

Some things refuse to disappear

As if to have arrived via SMS yesterday afternoon:

The Southern Gentleman - "Not a big Zombie fan, but World War Z film was pretty sweet. Thought it was way better than Man of Steel. Have a happy & sale Fourth of July! Happy B-day USA?"

a chapter closed

When last we spoke many months ago, I was super excited about the glowing prospects of The Southern Gentleman finally coming around.

Well, my excitement was short lived as by mid-February, he promptly stuck his head back in the ground. The Southern Gentleman went from genuinely trying in January to utter silence in February. I had sent him small presents for his birthday and Valentine's Day. He called me several days post birthday to thank me for the birthday present. This was not his typical behavior as generally he would have called the moment he received the package. I never heard from him regarding the Valentine's Day package.

It was his disregard and neglecting his usual southern good manners that slapped me across the face. And with that I was done. Done being patient, done encouraging, done waiting, hoping. Done.

And so I moved on.

Yes, he has called, sent a few emails, and a text or two; however, I have not responded or even acknowledged. I am done.

I needed to do this. Sever the connection, freeing myself of his spell.

To be cliche, I closed the door, so I could open the window for the new to come pouring in.

thirty days...

Busy has been a good thing around here. Some how the days have danced past in a flurry and here it is June already. 

Lots has been afoot here at the cottage. 

The Southern Gentlemen is officially dead to me.

Adopted a new canine. 

Continue trying to figure out where/how to fit in at work.

Pushing ahead on the great home remodel project. 

Threw a few parties.

Spent some much needed r-and-r in southeast Asia.

Endured the house guest from hell.

Ran another half marathon.

While the list is small, it certainly hasn't felt that way. 

I remain in denial that half a year is almost gone. Even more disbelief, that is a year I have returned to Denver. 

99 things

I can account for 51 of the 99. What about you?

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightening storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping 
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance 
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (presuming a fish counts)
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

traveling into uncharted waters

As February is rapidly approaching and my schedule has been nutty, I decided to purchase The Southern Gentleman's birthday and Valentine's Day cards over the weekend. Much time was spent wandering Hallmark trying to find the appropriate sentiments. 

There is a fine line between "you're the love of my life!" and "glad we're friends". I read millions of  cards but finally came across the right one for each occasion. I made a conscious effort to select cards that were outside my safety zone. Ringing true with more emotion and a lot more vulnerability than I am accustom to. 

Vulnerable is my new middle name. Deep down I know I need to wade in the pool of exposing myself. I need to reassure The Southern Gentleman of everything we discussed during his visit. The time has come for me to be brave and that bravery demands I leap outside my comfort zone. With The Southern Gentleman, I have learned gentle encouragement is key as opposed to a full-on assault. 

Next step in Operation Vulnerability & Bravery, signing and dropping in the post. 

deep blue

This week I was fortunate to work in the southeast. Ah, the view from my hotel room is amazing as is the view from the office. I look out the window and see nothing but water. It is beautiful. I have always wanted to live by the sea. Always.

Even though Austin is land locked, the Colorado River runs through the middle of town, so I constantly received my fix of moving water. I loved that it was so accessible. I truly do miss not having that option so close.

Needless to say I planted myself by the window so I could soak in the endless blue. While the mountain view of home is nice, my soul resonates with the lapping of water.

swimming against the abyss

Much to my surprise, The Southern Gentleman has been keeping in touch weekly via text message. While he has never really employed text messages in the past as he has always been a phone call guy, I think it is movement in the right direction.

Normally at this stage of post-trip, he would be completely, utterly silent. But The Southern Gentleman appears to have heard what I said, "you're the one who always goes into deep hiding after our encounters." I truly feel sending texts is his way of showing me that he is not disappearing into the abyss this time. Baby steps, kids, baby steps.

I continue repeating my mantra: patience. I am giving him his space to sort this all out, over-analyze every inch of our time together last month and over the past million years. I will not push him or bully him; I will continue encouraging him in small ways.

crossing thank yous

Yesterday was all sorts of Southern Gentleman interaction.

First, I wrote my thank you card to him. After a few drafts and few conversations with my girls, I transformed my traditional Emily Post thank you to a more suggestive thank you. Upon completion, I promptly dropped it in the post box so there would be no turning back.

Mid-afternoon I received a text message from The Southern Gentleman. I was surprised and delighted. I quickly responded and he replied. Very exciting. The messages weren't steamy or thrilling; it is simply that he is maintaining contact.

In the evening, I went to the post box and there on top was a postcard. Clearly, The Southern Gentleman wasted no time in getting it in the mail. Here it is:

Pats, Thanks so much for the great time in CO. I needed a vacation and you made a fine host. I enjoyed the meals, tea tour, Django movie, and talks. I hope you had a great time too! That last meal with your neighbors was fun, but almost made me miss my flight!! It was also fun to visit so many [specific] stores and get your thoughts on some of the styles and pieces. One day my dream of a showroom will come true!! You take good care and I hope you have a wonderful new year. You are a true friend and I cherish our relationship. Take care and be safe.
XXXOOO
- The Southern Gentleman  :)

I am highly amused that both of our final sentences contain the verb "cherish".

And there you have the latest.

weekend holiday recap part three

Sunday morning was the appointed time for us to make the pilgrimage to view Django Unchained. The Southern Gentleman was very excited to see this film. (I purposely wore a dress as this is important later). He paid for the tickets, I picked up the popcorn and soda. Unlike previous times when we have seen movies together, I noticed he sat very close to me. The film wasn't painful as I had anticipated and I actually found myself immersed in the story line.

Since the film was so long, a mid-movie pee break was required. As I sat in the stall, I reminded myself that I needed to find the right time today to speak with The Southern Gentleman about our weird relationship. Post film, we ran a quick errand to pick up some wine that was on deep discount and from there were headed home.

The Southern Gentleman sat on the couch and I went to the kitchen to pour him a cocktail and a wine for me. We talked about the film. I poured him a second cocktail and then he poured himself a third. Upon returning from making his drink, The Southern Gentleman takes a sip and says, "we have to talk about you and me." I was speechless as I honestly never thought I would hear those words out of his mouth, not after all this time. He went on to say that he thinks about what would happen if he and I dated and he is afraid that he would lose me if we broke up and he doesn't want to lose me from his life so we should probably stay friends. To this, I informed him that we have never been friends of a platonic sort. There has always been this undeniable spark and chemistry that "friends" don't have. He asked about any other male friends who come visit me and I told him that he is the only man that visits me besides the gays and of that group he is the only one who sleeps in bed with me because the gays always use the guest rooms. Funny enough, he reminded me that I came into his guest room the second night of his first trip. He has kept close track of all details. I took ownership that I am slow to pick up on stuff like this but that I recently figured out that back in the day (almost 13 years ago now) he liked because we used to go to exercise class together regularly... and what man goes to exercise class?! I told him that he shouldn't be afraid of losing me because by being afraid, we could be missing out on the best thing ever. I also relayed a story about a cousin that would drive the point home. He took the information in.

The Southern Gentleman also made some assertions about expectations on visits and phone calls, to which I made it clear that I was not to be lumped in with his last few girlfriends especially in light of the fact that the past 8 years I have made zero demands of him and his time. He talked about the various times we almost collided in the past and the constant theme was fear of losing me. I continued to reassure him after all we've been though in almost 13 years, if he was going to lose me, it would have been a long time ago. I told him it is up to us to determine what works for us an no one else. Also in response, I called him out on the fact that he is the one who goes into deep hiding after our little holidays together. He then told me "this is what you do to me" as he placed my hand on his crotch. He continued to say he had been remiss in telling me how nice I have looked every day, including today in the dress and boots. He went on to say that he doesn't want to have sex for the sake of having sex.  He spoke of wanting to enjoy Valentine's Day again. The conversation continued down less meaty topics like my recent non-existent sexual past (call me the born again virgin!). I spoke of the first day we met and he walked down memory lane with me. I pulled out last year's New Year's Eve dress stating "look what you're missing out on because you are leaving tomorrow at dawn." He stated "we should have had this talk a few years ago" but I assured him I wasn't ready for it until now.

We made salads for dinner. Just as we finished my neighbors showed up on my doorstep and so they checked out the kitchen and we drank wine and talked. We ended up going to their house for dinner... and honestly after that point I have swiss cheese memories. I do remember sitting very close to The Southern Gentleman on the couch. I don't remember going home but I do remember being at my front door and opening it.

Monday morning at the crack of dawn I awoke face down in bed with only my undies on. He was completely naked. We didn't have sex but he enveloped me and held me for the brief remaining time before the alarm clock was to sound. He had an early morning flight. We were both fairly quiet on the drive. Half way to the airport I reached for his hand and he held my hand for the rest of the ride. At the departure sidewalk, The Southern Gentleman got his bag, thanked me, hugged me and then bent down kissing me on the lips. And then he disappeared thought the glass doors. And my heart felt empty already missing him.

The Southern Gentleman called that night to let me know he was home; there was still some lovey-ness in his voice. On New Year's Day he sent a text message and another the following day.

Now to sit back and give him the time and space to think about our conversation and our time together.

weekend holiday recap part two

After an evening cocktail, we headed down south for dinner. Luckily the restaurant was quiet and we had a secluded booth to ourselves. The Southern Gentleman was delighted when I agreed to split a bottle of sake. He was adorable pouring our little glasses and rattling off various 'cheers' phrases in various Asian languages. Midway through dinner, His father called and The Southern Gentleman spoke to him briefly. Upon hanging up, I asked him if his father questioned him about coming out to see me. In true Southern Gentleman style, he answered that his father did indeed have questions about me but not as many as his good friend did. I didn't press the issue but thought that an interesting tidbit.

Dinner was amazing. We paid and left. Once we got home, he was lying on the couch and I went downstairs to find something on Netflix that we'd discussed at dinner. He was giggly and didn't want to come downstairs at first but then did. At some point he went upstairs, I had watched the part I was interested in due to The Southern Gentleman's story and proceeded upstairs. I didn't see him so assumed he was out having a cigarette. In my room, I am getting ready for bed and I notice the bed pillows are cockeyed. Thinking nothing of it, I continue undressing and then it dawns on me... he is hiding under the covers. I creep closer to the bed and like a little kid he has ruffled the bedspread and positioned the pillows to camouflage himself complete with a small mouth air hole. I laughed and poked at him. He whispered back "let me show you my moves" from his air hole. I climbed into bed next to him and he pulled me even closer. We both fell asleep. I was awoken from my dead sleep to him pawing at me and in the blink of my sleepy mind, he had both our underwear off and was trying to get the party started. Needless to say, his alcohol consumption made the situation pointless but he was certainly determined to try.

Saturday morning The Southern Gentleman declared he was hungover and swore there'd be little to no drinking today. We eventually headed down to the upscale shopping district, where we wandered in and out of shops. The ease of our relationship always amazes me, especially because we don't see each other on a regular basis.I was wearing a vintage coat with a mink trim collar and of course we had to walk in front of the animal rights activists. I was afraid my collar might be assaulted so The Southern Gentleman became my human shield. Of course, my human shield ends up speaking with the ringleader about a place for lunch; all the while I am hiding behind him and refusing to make eye contact with the activists. After lunch because it was getting cold, we went into the indoor mall and checked out a few shops. Heading home, we drove around an up and coming area of town to see if anything sounded good for dinner later.

At home, his back was hurting and so he was on the couch popping ibuprofen. The pain had started at lunch and he said he didn't know what would have caused it. I politely informed him that he was bucking around in bed last night "showing me in moves" and that was most likely the cause. He asked a few questions because he didn't really remember anything from the time we got home Friday night. I got him comfortable with the heating pad, fed him beer and let him rest. Dinner was a quiet affair with a quick trip to a sandwich shop. In bed that night, he kept himself in check as did I but throughout the night he would take my hand and hold it in his as we both slept.

Sunday morning was....

weekend holiday recap part one

I need to document The Southern Gentleman's holiday. Especially as I have documented all of his trips with the exception of one in May 2010.

This holiday was a doozy. He was making some sort of almost daily effort to be in touch with me the weeks prior. Whether it was an email, text, or phone call, he made a very concerted effort.

I was a crazy woman getting the house and myself ready for his Thursday evening arrival. It would be the first time he was at the Colorado cottage as all previous visits were made to Texas. Around the time of his departure, I sent him a quick "on the plane?" text to which he replied with a phone call saying he had been upgraded to first.

The flight was about 30 minutes late but my timing to pick him up was excellent. There he was on the airport sidewalk looking as handsome as ever. He got in the car, gave me a big hug and small kiss on the cheek. From the moment I saw him, the rush of emotion was back as powerful as ever; as if it hadn't been 2.5 years since we last saw each other.

We headed back toward the cottage with plans to get The Southern Gentleman a late dinner. Juju came with me and she immediately planted herself in his lap falling promptly to sleep. My front headlight had just gone out before leaving to pick him up.

We stopped at Quaker Steak and Lube, where I had a few red wines and The Southern Gentleman enjoyed a few beers and a sandwich. Then we ventured home where he put his bags in the loft and we went on the grand tour. I had no idea he was fairly drunk at the time. The Southern Gentleman pulled a clear glass Christmas tree out of his bag. The glass was hollow and filled with chocolate candies and a small pouch. I took it and thanked him. Stupid me, I didn't really zero in on the pouch to which he told me to open it. Much to my surprise, there was a beautiful pair of silver earrings in the bag from one of my favorite jewelery designers. He has given me small inconsequential presents before, but never jewelry. We packed off to bed and as anticipated, The Southern Gentleman crawled into bed with me. As I was drifting off, I was surprisingly awakened by his hand gliding down my back making stops to caress my bum and thighs. In all these years, he has never attempted anything of the sort and honestly I was quite shocked. Some touchy feely ensued and then he abruptly stopped. I asked if I was the in-between girl to which he replied "I don't know what you are, Pats."

Friday morning I got up before him. I putzed around the kitchen making coffee, briefly checking in with my best girlfriends online. We got dressed and headed up to Boulder. First stop was Celestial Seasonings. On the ride, The Southern Gentleman was rather quiet. I prattled away as a good tour guide does. He thoroughly enjoyed the Celestial Seasonings tour as he said so numerous times. From there we went into Boulder proper strolling down Pearl Street until stumbling on a place for lunch. We enjoyed a few hours of going in and out of shops. At a few shops, he did not correct the sales staff if we were referred to as married.

Ran various errands on the route home. Stopped in at the liquor store to get some beer, into Walmart for much needed windshield fluid and various food items for his visit and a dinner he wanted to make on Sunday. He promptly filled the windshield fluid when we reached the car. Amen! The magnificence of seeing out the windshield! Then on to our final stop, the auto store to pick up a headlight. Since the auto store guy told us that we needed to remove the battery to replace the light, The Southern Gentleman was nervous and I was reduced to calling my dad to come lead the charge. However when my father arrived, The Southern Gentleman made sure he did most of the work. I think he just wanted the backup in case anything car wise went wrong. However, in replacing the burn out one, the other one went out so back to the shop we ran and he easily replaced the headlight in the parking lot.

that's the story of, that's the glory of love

The Southern Gentleman left early yesterday morning.

Now the cottage is quiet.

The sound of his laugh no longer fills the crisp cold air.

The crooning of his voice has ceased to envelope me.

He isn't stretched out on the couch, just a small touch away.

Nor is he next to me in bed; his hand holding mine as we slept.

His leaving is always like this.

I feel like a piece of me has been ripped out.

I miss him terribly.