The Hardest Part

The hardest part was trying to tell him no.  It wasn’t because I didn’t want him, it was because I kind of wanted to start over with him and I wanted to do it the right way.  “The Right Way.”  Yeah sure, what was that?  In this day and age, people are lucky to get past the first couple days together let alone couple hours without ending up in the sack, sweaty, and calling out to each other in ways that would make their grandmothers blush. What WAS the right way?

He was on my front porch swing with my dog at his feet when I got home from work.  Damn it.  I am never much of a people person when I get home from work.  I generally need a few minutes just to change modes, organize my thoughts, and well….just be me.  Oh sure, I should be able to do that while I’m driving home, but to me, my home is my space and it grounds me and brings me back to myself more than any drive in traffic ever could.

“Well, welcome home, Girl,” he said with a grin.

“Uh, thanks.  You’re early,” I said politely but really wanted to give him a hard time for welcoming me to my own home.  I was feeling sassy.

“Yeah, sorry, I just couldn’t wait to see you and I thought we’d be able to spend more time together if I hurried my ass up,” he said opening the door for me.

I didn’t respond but smiled in response to him opening the door.  I do like when men act like men and are still chivalrous.  I threw my stuff on the table by the door, gave my dog some lovin’, then gave him a hug.

“Let me run upstairs and get cleaned up.  You know where everything is and there is a fresh batch of sweet tea in the fridge if you want some,” I said.

My place wasn’t huge, but it was perfect for me.  The upstairs was a giant master bedroom with a window that looked at the lake beyond the woods and of course a bath all converted from an attic spanning the whole house which gave me the ability to have a little office space in one corner.  The downstairs was a small spare bedroom and full bath, a decent size kitchen, and a good size family room.  But what I loved the most was the wrap around porch outside.  My little yellow and white house was everything I ever needed.  Well, that and my dog.

At one point, I thought this man downstairs, drinking my sweet tea, was the missing link.  I thought he was the answer to all my hopes and dreams.  Turned out he was just the cherry on top of the cake, I could take him or I could leave him.  He messed up big time with his lies and in all honesty, I had no idea why I let him back into my life.  I had no idea why I agreed to talk to him the past few weeks, and I had no idea why I agreed to go out with him tonight.  What I did know is if he wanted to try to be something in my life, I would give him one last opportunity. Why?  Because I’m a girl and no matter what, we can be way too sentimental and hopeful.  I believe it’s all the damn princess cartoons we were raised to watch!

Once I finished cleaning up and changing clothes, I went downstairs to find him waiting on my porch swing, petting my dog, and on his cell phone pushing buttons with the other hand.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Absolutely!” he said with a little too much enthusiasm.

The night began almost uneventful.  It was a typical night with him which was probably good because it reminded me of the things I didn’t like. We started with a movie at the theater which consisted of hand holding and me swatting him away with a soft “stop it!” each time he tried to nibble on my neck or move my hand to his crotch.  I wanted him more than anything.  We were so good together not just a few times we had sex, but every time we had sex.  That’s not to mention everywhere we had sex.  We had so much sexual energy between us, our cheeks were constantly flushed and we were always looking for a place out of view of the public.  But, if we were staring over, I wasn’t just going to jump in the sack with him.  I wanted to see if he was still the same guy or if he really wanted me in his life.

After the movie, we drove to a cute, little place for dinner where we had an amazing meal and lighthearted chatting about what we had been doing the past six months or so.  Of course our chats came second to his chats with the waitresses and second to his cell phone.

He was a charmer.  Women always loved him and it was something I understood and honestly didn’t have a problem with.  I just asked that he be respectful when he was with me. I know more than most that there is a difference between being nice and flirting so my jealousy was always kept to a minimum until he decided to be disrespectful of me one too many times in the past and began blatenly flirting with others as I sat with him. He didn’t care before and obviously he didn’t care now. There comes a point when an outsider realizes he is fair game and that is when I get angry.

I decided to interrupt and ask the waitress for the check since we were finished.  I figured I could get rid of her for a minute so I could tell him that he was an ass.  When she excused herself, I gave him “The Look”.

“What?” he asked.

“Do you really have to lay it on that thick with her tonight of all nights?  We’re going right back to where we left off.  I’d be happy to take a cab home if you just want to wait for her shift to end,” I said rather calmly.  I was tired.  Tired of bullshit.

“No.  We’re going to finish our date.  I’m sorry,” he said.

When the waitress returned, she handed him the check in one of those little black books and gave him a wink.  I took it from her with a smile, removed the check, and handed it back to her with my credit card.  I took the other little piece of paper that had her name and phone number on it and handed it to him.  She looked at me, unsure what to do.

“Here you are, Dear,” I said to him as nice as pie.

He handed her number back to her and said, “You might want to give this to someone who isn’t sitting at a dinner table with a lady.”

Her eyes got wide and she walked off.  She actually had one of her co-waitresses bring the check back with my credit card for a signature and we didn’t see her in our area or the dining room again while we were there.

When we left the restaurant, he was quiet.  I knew we were going to the park near my home.  We used to leave the car there and walk to my place, then just walk back up and get his car in the morning after a night of fun.  It wasn’t a far walk, but it was peaceful along the lake.  We walked slowly, holding hands and not saying much.

When we got to my place, he held the screen door as I opened the inner door.  I stepped inside and turned to him putting one hand to his chest.

“What’s up Baby?” he whispered.

“Thanks for taking me out tonight.  Be safe driving home,” I said.

“You aren’t letting me stay?” he asked.

“No,” I said without hesitation.

He tried to sweet talk and eventually to beg, but I stuck to the one word that was something I was never able to say to him before, “No”.  I wanted so badly to tell him to go get his waitress, but I didn’t.  I wasn’t going to be mean.  I wanted to badly to let him in and have amazing, loud, breathtaking sex all night, but I didn’t.

I watched as he shuffled his feet up my driveway and up to the lakeside walk.  I watched as his shadow got longer on the sidewalk as he walked towards the moon.  And I watched as, in the distance, I could see his cell phone light up, and I thought to myself, “That was the hardest part.”

The Hardest Part