It is July and I’m nervous.
I’m waiting for him to kiss me. I’ve read his palm. I’ve already traced my finger down his life line and accidentally felt his pulse. We both know it is going to happen because for the last two hours, all we can see are lips. He takes a sip of beer and puts down his glass. I pick it up and imitate him. The beer is cold and bitter but as I swallow I bite my bottom lip and it goes down sweet. He moves next to me. Kiss me, I think and he does.
I finally exhale and blow a stifled breath into him. When our eyes open, I expect to see my own relief reflected back at me. Instead I see hunger.
It surprises me. Wait, I’m not there yet. He leans in again and kisses me again and this time his hands are touching my body in places we don’t talk about with the lights on. Wait, I’m not there yet. I put my hands into his; here touch these instead.
‘Why are you being so coy?’ he growls.
I fall back, away from him. His words don’t scare me. It’s his eyes. They’ve fogged up; he’s not looking at me clearly. I’m disappointed. Wait. I don’t want this tonight.
‘Your body seems to want it’, he says as he kisses me again. My eyes stay closed but my legs open.
No, no, no. I scream to myself. Don’t want me for this. I want you to wait. It feels like a split second decision but it takes twenty minutes. I’m there, lying on the floor, but I’m not in my body. I don’t have to force myself to kiss him, because all I want is a kiss, but my hands are not my hands. They’re touching, grabbing, unbuttoning, pushing, pulling. Is this what you want? I challenge.
‘Let’s go upstairs’, he says.
‘No.’
I don’t want it to be like every other time; I don’t want to be another woman in his bed. Instead I become another woman on his floor.
I want to wait. I don’t want this to happen now.
But it does.
***
Last year, I didn’t love myself enough to believe that if I told him to wait, he would, and then still want me. Have you ever given in to the moment because you were afraid that if you didn’t, the moment would never come again?
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
Yes.
I will never do it again because just like you, I love and respect more than any man. And always will.
Well, no. The word no has always come easier than yes for me. I knew, when I said no, that I’d probably never see him again. And because I knew that, it made me say no with even more fervor. In this general area of the country, the women outnumber the men in spades. I am often told, even by the nicest men, that what I won’t do, others will.
They’re welcome to you, then.
My dreams are of a man I meet, who I adore, and I will say no and he will say ‘It’s okay. I’ll wait’. And that will make me want to say yes.
Yes and no…more that I’ve just let it happen in the moment, not really thinking of what I want but getting carried away. Only afterwards realising that I shouldn’t have.
no. somehow it’s easier for me to say no rather than yes. yes is what scares me. unless i can trust a guy fully, i don’t dare say yes…
nice post. thanks.
I have unfortunately given into moments because I’m afraid they’d never happen again. I’ve regretted it.
But at the same time, I’ve also regretted not doing something because I knew the opportunity would never happen again.
Life’s a hard battle to win.
Also, I love your posts, they are always written so well that you can really feel how you feel and it’s inspirational. Just thought I’d share :)
Wow. I can’t even explain how much this speaks to me.
Yes. Sometimes I gave in just because it was nice to feel wanted. I was afraid of being undesirable, and his desire was unbelievable. I didn’t dare turn him away.
It’s happened more than once, sadly. Luckily I’ve grown up a lot since then. Now I’m sleeping with a man who I *know* desires me for a lot more than just my body. It’s nice.
Dude, I waited and we both know what happened! Spontaneity is key!
Often. Yes. I remember last summer even, leaving a date I didn’t really want to go on. Flattered, I suppose, because he had called me after the first date, although the first date already ended with some groping and breathless kissing in his car…and I didn’t really want to, but here I went. Maybe this is the last guy who will call me again…who knows. It was awful. “It” didn’t happen all the way, but enough for me to call my best friend on my way home and bang my head on the steering wheel going “WHY did I just go there”. Shit place to be. Argh.
On that note: He WAS a dick.
And now I am dating someone who is amazing and waited his ass off. :) Because even at 34, you can get to the point where you just. aren’t. ready. And we were friends and then it grew into more and voila. So, listening to your gut is the way to go.
I keep having these moments where I think your blog is my mind – relaying everything I’ve ever felt but never knew how to say. I am enamored with you, with how effortlessly I find myself fitting inside your words. This may be a personal description of a moment in your own life but it feels so universal to me. This is how I lost my virginity. Hoping that if I gave it to him, he would like me the way that I wanted him to. And if I gave it to him again, a few days later, it would erase the doubt that he’d put in my head from the aftermath of the first time. And the second man that I slept with – I did it because I thought it would make him stick around, it’s what he wanted. And all of the times after that with him – I just wanted him to stay. And he didn’t. And then the next – it was the same. It was better, more connection, but in the end – the results were mirrored and I was left feeling worse than the times before. “If this one actually liked me, why did he walk away?” And after him, my first attempt at trying not to care, placing my emotions somewhere else and just letting go. And we had sex, regularly, for three months. And he wanted me. he told me all the time. But I wasn’t interested. I just wanted to feel important to someone. For once. And then I had my first “one-weekend” stand. And I realized that my heart wasn’t even attached to sex anymore. And I’m fearful because I don’t want it to be a careless thing. Have I ruined it for myself? Am I gone? All because I wanted the first one to care. But it’s like they say, “If you give a mouse a cookie…”