I sometimes wonder what happens to those lost conversations…
He texts you out of the blue…you text him back…he texts you a question or cute little something…you text him back…and then…NOTHING.
After all the back and forth correspondences, texts, bbms, voice mails (well, maybe no voice mails), but seriously. What about my last question or comment actually ended our conversation?
So, a week has gone by since our last intimate moments…fine…fine…we shared a kiss (and a few beers)…so why do I find myself wondering if he’s still alive?
In fact…If I recall correctly, he basically came out of nowhere…he pursued me out of left field and I wasn’t even that interested in the whole situation in the first place. He’s an all American, baseball hat wearing, (probably video game playing) 30-something year old upper east sider (and not the Madison Ave./ 5th Avenue type of upper east sider).
Before I decide to totally bash him, I must say that when he put his hands on your shoulders at the bar and said, “take my number, we should totally hang…give in to temptation…” I sort’a did as I was told. I mean, what did I have to lose?
So we met.
This is what it feels like…
he's totally engaged in YOU.
he's engaged in your stories.
your backpacking summer 2003 stories.
your college stories.
Some white lies
He put his hands on my thighs at the bar and confessed he wanted to kiss me.
We leave the bar and hail me a taxi…he kisses me goodnight.
His large hands on the small of my back and he towers over me…
The taxi driver honks in the middle of Amsterdam Ave., “let’s go!”
We stop kissing…he giggles.
It's a week (and change) later...
He’s officially disappeared…I’m totally confused but only care to write about it.
How far must a man go to get a kiss these days?