Having good luck with K, I threw myself back into the soup with haste.

Next was A. I knew he was smart, I knew he was clever, I knew he had style. If there was any trepidation it was held in the fact that he might be too good. A ‘proper’ person, relationship material.
We met for brunch and of course, it was a little awkward at first. Clearly, we weren’t going to rush back to my apartment to have sex so I didn’t really know what to do. We were going to get to know each other. This, unfortunately is exactly what we did. We talked for hours. He was kind, he was emotionally evolved, he’d forgiven everyone who had done him wrong, he listened as well as talked, he had nice tatts. Plus he could drink (always a bonus for me). He was, to me a saint.
He walked me back to my apartment and as we waddled along I knew I couldn’t get any closer to this guy. I would never be able to give him what he wanted and a guy like that deserves a fantastic girlfriend. I climbed up my stoop and just as I turned my key I followed a strange impulse to rush down the steps and kiss him on the mouth. Not French kissing you understand, just a gentle kiss.
Within 1/2 hour my ex was stopping by with the kids.

The spell was broken. Back to my daily grind.

After this, A sent me a playlist and I was touched. I still come from a time where playlists are all about heart and meaning.

We exchanged a few emails and texts but predictably, it disappeared for which, I was grateful. I had thought more about my time with A than any of my experiences thus far which, meant I was holding my hand too close to the flame. It was time to move in a different direction. No more dates for me.

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