(date : April 20th 2015)
From that first Facebook messenger sound to our actual “coffee date” literally 2.5 weeks passed by. He kept messaging me here and there to make sure I wasn’t losing interest. I’d like to say he was making sure that I wouldn’t back out of said coffee date. He knew that I was having fun on my end and quite frankly it was no surprise. Plus, I think anyone in my shoes and coming out of an 11 year stagnant relationship would have done the same. FUCK, FUCK and then FUCK some more. But apparently this wasn’t the purpose of the “coffee date.” Maybe it wasn’t, but I made sure to shave my legs and my lady parts just in case. Come on, don’t tell me you wouldn’t jump at the chance to sleep with your first boyfriend if you had the chance. I was sure in hell not missing it.
I arrived before he did and I wasn’t nervous per say… I’d qualify it more as excited for him to see the new me. New me?! I was no longer the girl he dated 17 years prior. I was a woman now. I was confident, driven, smart, funny… all those qualities you don’t necessarily demonstrate when you are 14. Plus, being in my 30s, I knew what I wanted and didn’t want. I’m the one who invited him for coffee… Me, because I knew how this was going to end. (even if he didn’t).
He makes his entrance. We hug and kiss on the cheek. I thought it would of felt more awkward then that but it didn’t. It was like we had never stopped talking. We talked about our stories, our journey, work, family, friends, hobbies… everything and anything you can discuss over coffee with someone you haven’t seen in over 15 years. It was nice. It was flowing conversations and boy do I love it when conversation flows. There was never an silent moment. I smiled and laughed. It was nice. The idea of being on a date with my first boyfriend was a little surreal but I knew it would make for an interesting story.
We talked about my new singledom and freedom. Years prior, before I got married, he had sent me a MSN messenger message (I know, old school) And what he told me always stuck at the back of my head.
“Are you sure you want to do this?! (get married) You are young and have so much ahead of you, so much to learn/live and experience. I feel like you are throwing that all away?!”
I thanked him for his concern but it didn’t stop me. I got married at 25. Alas, we were sipping on hot coffee (him tea) while reminiscing what he had told me years before. “Live and Learn” I told him. He agreed. Indirectly he was right, truth to the whole “so much to live” because I found myself a single mom of two and thirsty to “experience”. No regrets though. But still… sometimes I wish I would of paid more attention to what others have expressed as concerns.
We could of stayed up all night to talk and talk and talk but he had a last minute band practice and needed to jet. I wasn’t disappointed in how things turned out because I knew I would be seeing him again.
“Let’s do this again, it was really nice, please text me when you get home and let me know you are safe.”
We hug and part ways. I get in my car and I get that moment of excitement. I had a smile from ear to ear. I was really happy how that turned out, okay given I would of preferred sex as the finishing act but I felt on top of things. Like he was looking at me in awe which was the complete opposite from when I was 14 and being Gaga over him. I finally get home and text him that I made it in the storm as promised. It literally took him 2 secondes to reply
Glad to hear you made it. And to think you could have been naked right this instance ?!
Seriously?! I fucking knew it. I mean, I am not naive but still… why would he be so adamant in telling me I was imagining things. That he wasn’t looking to have sex with me. “Just a coffee date” I mean, come on…. he dumped me 17 years ago before we actually had sex so maybe time / remorse got to him?.
I called him out. I was annoyed with him and my response to that was :
“you think you can handle me ?! Bring it on. I’m free Thursday in two weeks”
And just like that I had booked a sex date with Mr. First boyfriend. I know it sounded cocky but it was my “I’m pissed” response. But now I needed to concentrate on the messages from Mr. West Coast. He kept giving me play by play on what he would do to me on Saturday…. hotel sex. I was beyond excited.