Talk of the Town

A few days after accepting my new job spark guy called. I felt awkward to talk to him being he never made me an offer on the job by him and I didn’t feel like explaining myself. So I let it go to voicemail. A few days later another call. Then I started to feel like a jerk. He tried to help me when I needed it the least I could do was let him know I took a position. So I called back. We chatted for a bit and he congratulated me on my job and apologized that they didn’t have their acts together to offer me something, but that they may go with someone who had more experience. I was ok with that. As the conversation trailed off I started to feel like something else was coming. And then there it was. Just like I thought. “I wanted to know if I could take you to lunch?” Hmm… lunch? Isn’t that code for I wanted to know if you were interested in sleeping with me? I said “sure” and a few days later we met for lunch. We chatted and laughed and talked like we were old friends.

It was strangely comfortable and easy. It was also exciting. He wore a bright purple shirt with dark black pants, his black rimmed glasses and salt and pepper hair. He had a gorgeous watch on and his skin was tan. He was definitely Italian and educated and funny and quick and his wit intrigued me. We talked about how I got to where I was, how my love life was a mess and how basically everything that I used to be he was fortunate not to meet. He was meeting the new and not yet improved me, but he seemed to enjoy her. I had a limited time during lunch and there’s only so much you can talk about in one hour while eating and paying for the check and such. It was sexual, it was fun and light and interesting. I could talk to this man for hours and that is exactly what I began to do. I guess maybe I liked that someone in all my disastrous way still thought I was cute and funny and interesting. I didn’t quite think that about myself yet. Hair still brittle and half blonde, still thin, not interested that much in eating although I had a tiny bit of an appetite back. My clothes still hung on me like I was playing dress up, but all in all it was the conversation I craved. We began talking on the phone. For what seemed like forever. Like teenagers not willing to get off the phone first. Then one day at lunch he said he was “Still” married. What? I thought he was going through a divorce as in not living together, has his own place, papers are filed, etc.

Nope. Still married. This didn’t sit well with me at all What the hell?? This was not something I was interested in being a party to. I didn’t want to be the “other” woman. I could barely be THE woman let alone the OTHER one. I would be no good at this and I had to let him know. I reiterated that we were just friends and that by no means would this go anywhere. Not to making out, not to sleeping together, not to anything. It was to stay merely as friends and if that wasn’t possibly for him then he would have to say goodbye for good. I didn’t want our talks to end, but I certainly was not in an emotional state to be let down or approached by a wife! It went on with just conversation for weeks. And I liked it, but it still felt wrong. Because I could feel something else happening and I didn’t know how to stop it. But I had to.

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