"It still counts...it counts doubly because the conscious mind often makes mistakes, falls for the wrong person" - No One Belongs Here More Than You, Miranda July
It was the beginning of a new era. I was a new person, with new dreams, and I thought I knew better. I should have known better. Now I look back and question how much did I know? Was I all together up there?Did all that I had learned, digested, and assessed really disintegrate because of some man. He wasn't a man's, man - not the kind who can fix a broken transmission and then tackle you down onto a hard surface and make your insides melt.
Yes, we can say that he was "above average", physically speaking. He stood slightly over six feet with black hair, tan skin, and mysterious dark gray eyes (now don't be mistaken, I met this gentleman before Christian Grey's time).
Living in NYC, there must be millions of single men in their prime years available for the casual dinner and the thirty day fling. Being the skeptical single Jewish New York lady that I am, I did not assume that my "tall, dark and handsome" man was dreaming of walking down the isle. I decided to play his game and follow along with endless midnight phone calls and sponsored cab rides across town for some good old slumber parties.
Friends with benefits - is that even an appropriate term for a man who has become your personal dildo after 2:00 AM? Reflecting on vague memories from that time, I can't recall him being much of a "friend". Personal conversations weren't my thing and cuddling was out of the question. But we did indulge in favorable topics about popular culture and his work...sometimes. What exactly was his profession? Some sort of marketing mogul? Or perhaps he had hyped up his financial achievement, assuming that I was interested in his fully loaded bank account.
Before I can discuss the ending and how we crashed and burned, I need to rewind to the beginning - to our first encounter and what he did to achieve the title of "Top 3" on my list of "Best Sex Ever".
