How We Met
chapter 21 from Soul Love
free audiobook
I do my best to catch and release lovers without drama. It doesn’t always work out. And relationships, unless you’ve found your match, are going to go through the honeymoon, the messy middle, and to the breakup.
How you navigate, or count your dance steps, is more like two people learning to tango.
I dance well. I don’t know how to tango. I use my body with care. I exercise and stay healthy physically and mentally. I also long for a relationship.
Sex is not everything. But if the sex is off, it’s a deal breaker. Sex can be off for several reasons. 1. poor experiences and coping mechanisms; 2. few experiences; 3. traumatic past relationships; 4. drugs, addictions, dissociation during sex.
When it’s good, when you experience “open eyes” sex... You won’t go back to disconnected sex. Casual sex is never an option once you understand how your spiritual bodies intersect and entwine before, during, and in the afterglow of sex.
When the sexual chemistry is hot, even a first date fuck is on the table. Better to reconsider. A second or third date fuck is more common. The rule of thumb is date number five. You will probably be doing it by then, if you’re going to do it, ever.
I am not all that great at postponing the magic of sex. I am hungry. Unpartnered sex is a practice that can help recenter your heart and your penis or vagina, depending on your orientation.
In some agitated or hungry states, a man is more likely to make poor decisions about sex. Women often require alcohol to lose their inhibitions. Neither is a good idea.
To hell with good ideas, right?
I arrived at the Mexican food restaurant for dinner with friends. A dear friend had invited “someone I think you’d like.” She was amazing. She hugged me.
“Oh,” I said, leaning into the hug. “We’re doing this.”
That started the chemical rush that overwhelmed us both. Overwhelmed her defense mechanisms. She told me things I wouldn’t imagine hearing in the first month of a relationship. The deep, personal stuff. Trauma. Okay, best to put that out in the open, I suppose. Oh, she was still married. But they’ve been separated since October.
“Um, when in October?” It didn’t matter. I did not ask that question. I was skiing out of bounds now, if I continued. No rules. No safety net. No additional information is going to make this okay. I tucked my curiosity under my hat and smiled.
She’s still married.
Still, that night we walked up the party street of South Congress in search of more time, more conversation, and more chemistry. Except we were already intoxicated. We stayed together chatting for five hours. We got booted out of the candy store at 9 pm. Booted out of the Mexican restaurant at 10 pm. She drove me in her Prius up the street to my car. The weather had turned cold and windy. We sat in her car, sharing a Jam on Spotify and expressing more and more about our secret desires.
She’s married. Big red flag. How does someone unload so much trauma on the first date? Okay, we’d been chatting for like five dates’ worth of conversation. But did I need to know all of that? Was that an acid test? The avoidant man, or saner man, would’ve said a pleasant good night and not continued the exploration. No need to try to date someone during shark season. Why would I do that?
Her magnetism and light outshone all of my objections. As my head was parroting my concerns, my heart looked at the beautiful woman and chuckled at the odds of success. I excused the flaming red flags as they flapped and burned right in front of me. “I’m going to lower the offense to a yellow card.”
In that encounter, we shared a lot of data. We were compatible. We were capable of lift off and breaking Earth orbit. And... She was still married.
Still, I said repeatedly to my friend, “The most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
That’s a bullshit line I’m telling myself. She’s a beautiful woman. Fit. Somewhat balanced. Extremely attractive. That’s not a complex equation. It’s not a soulmate. It’s a strong and amazing woman standing in front of me, saying she’s open to continuing our conversation.
The last part, regardless of the chemicals lighting up both my heads, should’ve waved me off. My heart was yelling, I’m IN. I was falling. I was lusting. I was having a crush. In the first five-hour conversation, we estimated that I was 14 and she was 17. She had the upper hand. I had the raw enthusiasm.
Today, I’m older, she’s perfect, and her husband is younger. I could be ashamed, looking back at the story, except I’m not. It was furious, fast, and fucked up. But the time together was a wake-up call. My heart, my life, is engaged and energized by the love she pushed and prodded into my body.
I want a relationship. I want a sexual partner. I want someone who’s done the work. Someone who understands what secure attachment means and knows how to go for that bond. Most people do not.
I do want a secure attachment. I cannot get that with an unavailable woman. This siren is still married. Unavailable. I don’t mean to shame her over and over. But I cannot do a married or recently divorced partner. There is too much trauma to come.
I’m walking back my promises. Unsending my love letters. Glad that we did not announce too much, or even share pictures or statuses of our hot-hot affair.
I will not sleep in another man’s house. I will not sleep with a married woman. I will not date or pursue a woman who indicates she does not want a relationship or is otherwise unavailable.
I am available, but not for a struggle. Not for a project. Not to help you get up to speed on how to navigate and construct a healthy and loving partnership. I’m only able to attend to my own issues, my own actions, my own words.
You will continue to do you. You will eventually get divorced.
I am ready to depart, and we have both been set free.
#30#