A few months ago, my therapist told me that if I kept repeating the same actions, I would get stuck in the same rut. Fair enough.
In essence he said that I am repeating the same situation over and over again and that going to therapy doesn’t solve the problem, that you actually have to do something about your patterns to change the reality.
I took it to heart.
It was a rude awakening: she was right.
Even now, re-reading my previous blog post I can safely say that it’s all a bit romantic, if I really think back to F, I wasn’t in love, I was happy for a brief moment, that’s all. And I’m looking for long-term happiness, this in-and-out thing – it turns me off now. Thank God.
So I chose a little wild because frankly I don’t like living a boring life and I don’t necessarily need to date only men who right off the bat seem like they’ll be my husband.
Right then, with complete clarity, I decided that even though I was missing the F, I would follow Alessandro Baricco’s advice and quit.
Let go of people, let go of dreams, let go of hope or his return, let go of hope.
A little wild never hurt anyone – I hope…
Here he was, tall, an insane body, 46, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, soft lips and a perfect smile.
Every picture of him was on a motorcycle or in the mountains or covered in motor oil or dirt with friends and family.
A warm smile, cute and a bit noisy.
He picked me up in a military green Mercedes G-Wagon, dressed head to toe in black. Not what you’d expect from an Italian guy, but he was a lot more flirtatious than the type of men I usually go out with.
We headed to a restaurant without AC and shared our lives in the middle of two billion degree Martian heat. I let him go first. Aerospace Engineer, MBA, Entrepreneurship and Sales. ok
Extremely well read and cultured.
Before this date he was out with an endless number of pseudo-prostitutes looking for half-brained women — or so he noted — who looked super hot.
He lived somewhere in a coastal town in Italy where he could have sex with everyone. ok
He told me an array of the most outrageous jokes I’ve ever heard, and I honestly expected them to be funny. It was kind of funny…
All the weirdness aside it was unresolved: she was hot. And confident, and maybe not my husband. What a great mix for a wild night.
We grew closer and closer despite the unbearable heat. My hands casually brushed against her legs and vice versa. Our legs always press against each other to signal interest. I liked him. I loved his deep gaze, his funny side laugh.
I like him a vanilla pistachio ice cream like you after a hot sunny beach day.
His eyes bore into my thoughts.
I closed my eyes on him without even looking that far.
As we left the restaurant after an evening of learning how you make sky scrapers, she pressed her soft lips against mine.
In my mind I thought I was in for an aggressive, possessive, lust-filled kiss; Instead it was soft, sweet, even a little romantic although where we were or the temperature couldn’t validate the romantic feeling.
As we walked down the street to his car, we kissed some more until he opened the car door for me. back door
I don’t think it’s ever happened to me, but we were so hot that we needed some air conditioning and the prospect of feeling connected to him in the cold air seemed like a very appealing idea.
After one kiss I climb on top of her, wanting to feel every inch of her body as close as possible. The whole situation in the car was designed to get him laid. Tissues, condoms, everything was planned in advance. I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with me.
I felt his perfect abs under his shirt. These aren’t gym abs, I thought, these are extreme sports abs, more flexible, defined yet casual. Her body looked incredible.
And just like that, parked in the middle of a road and walking along the side, the evening got a little wild.
We left soon after and decided to randomly head to the highway outside of Milano and proceeded to talk for another three hours about a million interesting things: life stories, books, philosophy, theory, family, politics…
Are there no more prostitutes around? he asked.
What does it mean? I asked.
You know there are usually little sandwich shops on street corners next to prostitutes…
He found one. He got us a few bottles of water. We kept talking and laughing in our air-conditioned car with a fantastic massage coming from our seats.
We came back to my place but I didn’t invite her.
I rather kiss him, very passionately.
It starts all over again.
Let’s make a bet, next time we meet in Bergamo, I will take you to taste the best tiramisu of your life.
It’s impossible. Best, oddly enough, at an Italian restaurant in London.
It’s a fair bet I’m writing this.
Deal
You know, if an asteroid were to hit Earth half an hour from now, it would be an amazing evening. I wouldn’t be sad if it was the last day on earth because it was a really great evening.
Random, but nice.
He texted when he got home and has been texting ever since.
I had zero expectations and it was quite frankly a bit wild and a lot of fun. I can’t wait to do it again.
Mental re-wiring
At 39, we start to wonder if our time has passed or if we have lost our energy. I’m on the receiving end of the conversation about passing my prime or women losing power at a certain age.
Quite frankly I don’t feel that way completely except in small bursts. Of course I feel it sometimes, and of course I wonder if I’ve missed my time to have a family, even as I write this as parts of my fear are holding each other with the opening of tap-sized tears.
If I’m completely honest with myself, I had a great time but I’m looking for my person and at this time I must remember that I want to close more than open, to cut, before it becomes too difficult to separate, to look for the right things, to be careful not to end something fun but not in the future.
I think it’s time to aim high and remove my mental barriers that often lead me to choose people who don’t connect with my energy and sunny intensity.
Even work wise; It’s time to level up.
What might happen if I held myself accountable to a higher standard of living?
What would happen if I allowed myself to believe that I could have something and that someone was simply amazing?
That’s not to say M isn’t, so far she’s nice but my future is impossible.
It’s time to trust again, fully, to step in a direction that I feel I belong in, to trust in what life is bringing, because I can feel it coming.
–
This post was Previously published at medium.com.
Love affair? We promise a better stay with your inbox.
Subscribe to get dating and relationship advice 3x weekly.
do you know We have 8 publications on Medium. Join us there!
***
–
Photo credit: NavamGrid in Unsplash
