The Catherinette Chronicles

This happened 2 years ago yesterday, but it still brings a smile to my face.  Yeah, he turned out to be a total douche bag from hell, but whatever.  What makes him a douche bag from hell?  Easy:

1. He was dating someone when we knocked boots over the summer - though he claimed that he was still single.
2. The day after the kiss described below he was flying home to sign the papers on his new house…which he purchased with that girlfriend of his.  Which he neglected to mention.
3. I found it all out in the Christmas card he sent.

See?  Douche bag from hell.  Knowing what I know now, I still would have kissed him.  In that moment, the kiss was magic.

“then I did the simplest thing in the world. I leaned down. . .and kissed him. And the world cracked open.” -Agnes de Mille

What is it about him that turns my knees to jelly? It is unnatural the way that I feel around him, like I’m about to melt into the ground, or burst into flames. Seriously, he drives me crazy. We have little to talk about, and there are awkward silences about him, but he makes me flush and want to jump into his lap the second I see him.

Notebook came home for Thanksgiving, and we made plans to meet out for some drinks on Saturday night. I was tired. I didn’t want to go, yet I dragged myself out. I made minimal effort in putting myself together as I was sure that nothing would happen. I packed the girls in a tank top and tightish sweater (I did notice him staring down my shirt when he thought I wasn’t looking), and threw my jeans on over unshaven legs. He walked in looking hot, as usual. He always looks hot. Always.

He bought me a drink, we flirted with one another, some other friends showed up. We sat there for hours and I did a super job of not drooling on his jacket or his sweater. Finally, it was time to go. He walked me to my car. It was cold out so I offered to drive him back to his car. He said yes. I pulled up in front of his car that he had parked right outside the bar. He smiled at me and I knew he was going to kiss me. And then he did. And we were both sober. Stone cold sober.

I went back and forth between 3 distinct thoughts: the desire to jump over my center console and straddle him; wanting to melt right into him; and wondering what it would be like if he just swallowed me whole. He was so warm, his lips so soft, his hands were in my hair. He whispered, “It’s nice to see you,” while he kissed me. Lord only knows how I managed not to die right then and there. [My heart is beating so fast just thinking about it all.]

Having had no expectations that there could be a booty call, I was unprepared-I left the house without shaving my legs. That meant that I couldn’t invite him home to jump into my warm bed. Damn my unshaved legs!! Foiled again!

We said good-bye. We will not call each other, we will not email each other. And I’m okay with that. I’ll see him at Christmas time. I have zero expectations.

A very Happy Birthday to me. . .