He knows my beauty marks. He touches them. He stares at me intently. Captivated and engaged.
His eyes pierce mine. And his ears listen–to words shared and to those left unsaid.
He is honest, brilliant and ambitious. Not to mention stunningly handsome. He is complete with values and goals. Many aligned with mine. He is a rare one with who I match. Our courtship has been effortless. I have lacked the unease or giddy high. Simply made better. Intrigued and complemented. A path too clear to a fulfilling relationship . .
He tells me my eyes do all the speaking. I argue his speak louder.
His words flow freely. While I digest mine.
Last night I wish he left the speaking to his eyes. For his words have evoked my desire for a hiatus. I am angry. And even worse, unemotionally so.
The facts are simple. Our first night together ended at 6am. Back in his apartment, in his bed. The alcohol took over. Intelligence we lacked. However, I left without feeling as if our actions sabotaged us. I felt the “us” more connected. . . . What rules?
The following evening. A late dinner. Followed by sitting in his car for two hours speaking. Each night after has been hours on the phone or more of the same, food followed by conversation amongst streetlights. Intrigue consuming the air. Kisses withheld. The passion of the first night forgotten. As if it was yet to come.
Friday and last night, I spent the night. Reading Spanish in bed together. Working. Teaching me how to roll my rr”s. Light kisses. And some playing. I halted the progression of sex on Friday. Saturday, four more hours of talking in bed and an expression of how much he liked me. Last night, his head disappeared under the covers. And I stopped him for he need not make this any harder. I knew whatever waiting period was required had not come due. He continued. I won’t do anything, he said. And then he did. Ahh. And I stopped him.
But then he asked me why. Stating that he knew his reasons, but what were mine. My words fumbled.
And when he shared . . . I turned my head. My mind wanted to leave his apartment. Swiftly and succintly.
S had tested me. “In a relationship, one of the most important things is being able to respect your partner and I believe there is a cycle that has to happen.” He had previously expressed how I was different and the positive aspects to waiting, but last night, he set me up for failure. And I am angry for I almost failed. And I say, fuck him. I can’t understand how he could determine my relationship worth by this barometer. Reality is, we did so once already . . . If he gave other reasons I may agree and perhaps, I do. But, a test is not sweet. It is not wanting to get to know me or build the passion or whatever else it may be . . . Sigh
And now these expressive eyes of mine are viewing something so many of us women often question. Will a man only see you as relationship material if the sex is postponed? I suppose the answer sometimes is a very definitive yes.
For today, I am done with tests. And stubborn. . .