Blog

Thursday arrived in the blink of an eye. She felt that nervous, excited anticipation as she waited for Mo to pick her up at home. He texted her when he arrived, and she hurried out to meet him.

They kissed/pecked hello and she felt a burst of butterflies fill her stomach. They were both seemingly shy and bashful, both feeling that sexual chemistry continue on from their first date, but both trying to play it cool. Mo had already bought the tickets to the comedy show, but he wanted to take her out again first, before the show, so they could chat and enjoy each other’s company. He decided to take her to play pool. She loved that idea. Not that she was some expert pool player, but she loved playing pool on dates. It’s a fun activity that allows for conversation and some flirty competition.

They played 5 rounds. He won 3/2, but she kicked his ass good in one game so she felt it was a win for her overall. She enjoyed flirting with him, chatting, playing 20 questions trying to get to know each other better. After about an hour and a half, they had to call it so they could make it to the comedy show on time. Mo paid the bill and they headed out to his car.

They both got in, she looked up at him and he was already staring at her. In a split second he leaned in, grabbed her by the back of the head and started kissing her. Hot, passionate, can’t-get-enough-of-you type kissing. It caught her off guard, but in the best possible way. When they finally took a breath, Mo said, “I’ve wanted to do that since I picked you up. You are so incredibly sexy!” She literally (not literally) melted in to a puddle right there on the front seat.

After their little make out sesh, they headed over to the comedy club. They were shown to their seats which were, thankfully, at the back and not up front where they would be picked on. They ordered some food and some drinks and watched the show cuddled in to one another as if they had been together for a lifetime.

It was an awesome comedy lineup. The comedians were great and both she and Mo really enjoyed themselves. The show finished and they headed back to his car. Once they got in, she knew another make out sesh was coming, and she welcomed it with open lips. He was such a good kisser. He held her head and neck the way she liked, he kissed her strongly and passionately, the way she liked. His hands moved down her body, touching her where she wanted to be touched but not going too far. They stopped a few times to catch their breath. She noticed the windows were fogging up. She felt like Rose in Titanic.

They made out for a literal hour. At points she was aware that passers-by could likely see what was happening. She was mildly embarrassed, but also found it super hot. She loved that Mo wanted her so badly he just couldn’t keep his hands and mouth off of her. Finally, she had to stop it. If she hadn’t they would have ended up having sex right there in the front seat. As much as she wanted it, she has a firm No Car Sex rule. Especially while parked on a side street downtown.

Living with her parents made it hard to schedule sexy times. Fortunately, she had committed to house sitting for a friend that coming weekend, so (with her friend’s permission to have a guest) she invited Mo over on the Saturday. Just two days from then. That still felt like too long to wait.

Of course Saturday came in no time. She had had plans during the day, so she told Mo to come by around 5pm. When he arrived, he brought a bottle of wine, two cans of caffeine free diet pepsi, and a box of condoms. Pure romance. The house she was staying at could easily be classified as a small mansion, so she had intended to give Mo a tour when he arrived. The tour would have to wait, though, as the front door was barely closed before his arms were wrapped around her waist and they were making out again. She lead him upstairs and they got right down to it.

It started off well. She was feeling good. She loved when a guy went down on her without having to ask. He was doing his thing, and though it was good, it definitely wasn’t getting her there. She tried to give him helpful tips, but clearly has some work to do on being more assertive of her pleasure needs because when he still wasn’t getting it, she just kind of gave up and let him think he was getting it done.

When he thought she had finished, he looked up at her and smiled. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she definitely wasn’t done, so instead re-adjusted and returned the favour to him. He was getting close, without a doubt, so she stopped so he could gain his composure, and then they started having sex. He put the condom on and she climbed on top. It felt good, but unfortunately he didn’t last very long. The look on his face made it clear that at least it was good for one of them.

She was wholeheartedly disappointed. After all that intense build up, all the sexual chemistry they shared, she was so bummed that that’s how the sex had turned out. Except she then realized that they had the whole night ahead of them! They got the quick-draw sex out of the way, and their next round would assuredly be way better. They cleaned themselves up, got dressed and headed downstairs.

Regardless of if she finished or not, they still had both worked up an appetite. They each got on their delivery apps and looked for a place to order from. Thinking ahead to round two, she didn’t want to be weighed down by something heavy like pasta or something with a lot of cream/dairy, and she didn’t want anything with garlic or onions. They settled on some bougie burger place nearby. She ordered a chicken burger with curly fries, Mo ordered a double beef patty burger with all the fixin’s, some curly fries, and “a couple extra dips”.

While they waited for their food to arrive, Mo suggested they go smoke a joint. Between the two of them, she was definitely the stoner. He had told her that he hadn’t really smoked weed in several years. He found that he gets quiet, and has really bad munchies when he’s high. She is not his keeper. It is not her responsibility to remind him of these facts. So when he suggested they get stoned, she happily agreed. They didn’t smoke much because he had such a low tolerance, and once they were done they went downstairs to watch Netflix and wait for the food.

It arrived fairly quickly, and Mo ran back upstairs to go grab it. He came back down with the bag of food, and the caffeine free diet pepsi’s he had brought. Oh, and those “couple extra dips” he had ordered were actually 10 little plastic cups of dip. You know the like, homemade garlic sauce you get from really good pizza places? Those little dip containers. He ordered TEN extra dips, for just himself! Some ranch, some mayo, and some “special burger sauce” made in house at that bougie restaurant.

He opened one of each, dipped his fries in each one as he ate them, and just left the other seven dips in the bag. What the fuck, man?! She probably shouldn’t have been as hung up on the dips as she was, but it was just so wasteful! Not even just a waste of money if you’re not going to use them all, but why order all that extra plastic?? For what purpose??! She loved dips as much as the next person. She would definitely consider herself a sauce girl. But why order so many!!?? She couldn’t get passed it, and it nagged at her for the rest of the night.

Also, the burgers were huge. Hers was just a chicken burger and she found it to be gigantic. His double beef patty burger was even bigger. She cut hers in half to make it more manageable, while Mo went full cave man and just embraced the mess. She ate half her chicken burger, and maybe a quarter of her curly fries before she stopped to let it hit. The last thing she wanted was to be all gassy and bloated when (if) they had sex again.

Mo, on the other hand, did not have that same train of thought. He proceeded to eat his entire double patty burger, his entire thing of fries, only 3 of 10 dips, and drank his whole can of pepsi. She noticed Mo take account of her not finishing her fries. Though she was a bit taken aback at how much he was eating, with no consideration to how he would feel later, she offered the rest of her fries to him which he proceeded to inhale. She also had taken a sip of the pepsi he had brought for her, and basically gagged. Ugh, the aspartame! No thanks. Knowing she didn’t want it, Mo then also drank her whole can too and said, “As if you don’t like these? I drink a 6pack of these per night!”, he said. Pardon me?! Wasn’t he a part-time fitness instructor??

Mo laid back on the couch, clearly beached. The image of him laying there with his engorged belly, surrounded by all those dips, was enough to make her realize that this evening would likely not have the sexy ending she had been hoping for. She then chose to finish her chicken burger because, what the hell.

The vibe for the evening had shifted. They went from horny teenagers, to an old married couple. Mo didn’t touch her for the rest of the evening, despite her efforts. She moved her pillow closer to him to cuddle – nothin. She readjusted and put her legs up near his, hoping to have them intertwine – nothin. They went from lovers to roommates in the matter of one giant meal. It was a Saturday night. They had an entire mansion to themselves. And they went up to bed at 10:37pm.

When they got upstairs, she was already so turned off. She half expected that Mo wouldn’t even be bothered to try anything and just pass out and go to sleep. To her surprise and disappointment, as they got in to bed, Mo rolled his giant, full body on top of her and they started kissing. It was the worst kiss in her recent memory. Just like, sloppy, un-interested kissing. Lazy lips is a good way to put it. She recoiled and tore her lips away saying, “Are you tired?” Mo sighed with relief and said, “yes, good idea. Let’s just go to sleep”. He rolled off of her and within seconds he was passed out.

She lay there on her back, staring up at the ceiling, fighting every urge in her body not to smother his loud, snoring ass in his sleep. She looked at the time; 12:04am. She tossed and turned for a bit, Mo rustling in his sleep as she moved. He got up twice, still half asleep, and went downstairs. Presumably to use the bathroom after having eaten half a god damn cow earlier that evening. Both times he came back and passed right back out.

There was absolutely no way she could stay there all night. Once Mo was fully asleep again, she climbed out of bed, got herself dressed, and went downstairs to smoke a joint. She had intended to go back to bed when she was finished, but she knew she’d still never sleep. So, she spent the night in her friends giant mansion sleeping on the couch in the basement. At least she didn’t have to listen to him snoring.

She was awake around 6:30am, but waited a while longer before she went upstairs to check on Mo. Around 8am she went back to the guest room. Mo heard her coming and rolled over, lifting his arm to signal her to come cuddle. She did, reluctantly, and he kissed her sweetly on the forehead. For a split second she thought maybe this would be a final attempt for him to redeem himself. That he’d lift her chin up, kiss her deeply, and then give her the romp in the sack she had been hoping for since their steamy makeout session after the comedy show. But, alas, she was wrong.

Nothing. He did nothing else. Didn’t even say anything, just laid there with her head nuzzled on his shoulder. A simulation of what could have happened after what could have been an incredible and sexy evening. “Do you want a coffee?” she offered, unable to lay there for a single second more. “Yes, sure!” he agreed. They both got up, and she headed downstairs as he got himself dressed.

By 9:30am, they had had their coffee, they had chatted a bit more, and yet, Mo stayed. Why?? Could he not take the hint? Did he really think that this had been a successful evening? He rambled on about politics and the government and the economy and whatever else, for another hour before she finally got up the nerve to say, “Okay well, I’m gunna have to kick you out. I have to workout, go get some groceries… Thanks for coming over”

Blunt and direct, she really had to work on that. It was so effective! Mo finally got the hint and headed upstairs to collect the remainder of his things. They kissed goodbye at the door and said, “Until next time…” She couldn’t bare to tell him that there would likely not be a next time. Finally, though, he was gone. An awkward exit after an awkward evening.

A week or so went by and she hadn’t heard from Mo. During their morning coffee conversation, they had also touched on dating patterns, and what constituted ghosting. Mo felt that if you hadn’t met the person yet and the conversation died down, that wasn’t ghosting. Agreed. He also said that if you go on a date with someone, and neither party reaches out afterwards, that that’s not ghosting either. That’s just both people realizing that it wasn’t going to work out. Also agreed. He then said that if one person reaches out after a date, and the other person ignores it, then that’s definitely ghosting. Agree on all counts.

So when neither of them reached out, she felt relief in knowing that he finally clued in and realized she hadn’t had a good time. And by neither of them messaging the other, no one had to ghost anyone and they could just move on. Except, this was not the ending she had hoped for. In the span of literally one week, Saturday to Saturday, she and Mo had gone through what felt like a full year of a relationship. From passion and excitement, to disinterest and complacency. For the first time in three years of dating, she had actually seen a sliver of hope for something more with a guy, and in one evening, realized again how happy she was to be single.

Continue to Chapter Eighty One

She came home after her date with Mo, giving herself some time to fix herself up a bit before meeting up with Kyle. She lied to her parents and said she was going to a friend’s house.

She left earlier than she needed to, but stopped and grabbed a coffee to wake herself up considering 10pm had turned in to 11pm since Kyle needed time to freshen up after work. If this had been any other guy, she would have bailed. Not that Kyle deserved the benefit of the doubt, though, after having ghosted her a year ago. Despite that, she knew that with Kyle, the sex would be worth the wait.

She made it to Kyle’s place just before 11pm. She walked up the driveway and around to the side entrance, and let herself in (per his instructions). He shouted “Hi” to her from another room. She barely had her boots or coat off before he entered the front hallway, grabbed her by the nape of the neck and pulled her head back, kissing her deeply. Her knees went weak, she dropped her purse, and she just melted in to him. Fuck she had missed that.

After that sexy greeting, Kyle led her in to the living room and they actually talked and caught up before fooling around. He asked how she’d been and what she’d been up to, and to her shock and delight, he actually apologized for ghosting her. Kyle explained that he had been getting the vibe from her that she wanted something more from him than what he was able to give, so he backed off completely. All this because she had asked if he wanted to go camping.

To clarify, the summer before, she had asked if he wanted to come camping with her and some friends of hers, whom he knew. He had met them the same night that she and he had first met. The reason she had thought to invite him was because she didn’t want to have to share a tent with the only other single guy in her group of friends. That, and it would have just been a fun weekend in the sunshine and on the water.

Those were her only motives to have invited him, which she could have told him that summer had he not stopped replying to her. She explained all that to him, and he admitted again that he was wrong to have ghosted her like he had. She accepted his apology, but also insisted that she had moved on and it was water under the bridge. Once that was out of the way, they continued on to more fun and sexy activities.

He leaned in and kissed her deeply, grabbing her at the nape of the neck again (god she fucking loved that). He moved his other hand down her body, caressing her thigh, before reaching down her pants. He finished her almost immediately. This was her first hook up since Jordan had ended things in early January. She missed the feeling of a man’s strong touch.

Once her pleasure subsided momentarily, they moved the action to the bedroom. Their mouths barely parted as they got undressed. Kyle then pushed her on to the bed and tore her leggings off before crawling on top of her. His strong, muscular arms surrounded her head from all sides. His strong hands pulling her hair as he kissed her. Without missing a beat, he moved back and flung her legs up on to his shoulders, filling her with his giant… well, you know. (His huge dick, okay guys? He’s gigantic. There, I said it😅).

She had forgotten what that felt like. The all consuming pleasure of being fucked the exact way you want to be fucked. No explanation, no demonstration. Straight to the point. Full pleasure from start to finish. Kyle was also one of the rare unicorns who would rather pleasure her than have her go down on him (though he would always rave about her skills when she did do that).

They finished basically in unison, and he collapsed on top of her. Their hot, sweaty bodies intertwined. Pure bliss. Something she always loved about her trysts with Kyle was that it was always a comfortable vibe. She never felt insecure with him, even as they lay there naked together. His strong, hard body against her soft, squishy rolls. He always made her feel secure and desired.

Kyle turned on the TV and they searched through Netflix as he regained some strength in anticipation of a second go-around. They chatted a bit more about each other’s dating lives. Same old, same old, for him. Always one girl on the go, plus side hook ups here and there. (And he thought she wanted something more from him, knowing what he’s like in “relationships”?!) 

She regaled him with her horrifying story from the night before. He expressed genuine concern for her experience, and wrapped his big strong arms around her saying he was glad she was okay. She looked up at him from inside his caress. He looked down at her and kissed her softly, which then turned more passionate, and it was time for round two.

The second time was equally as pleasurable. Afterward they both lay there, catching their breath. As they rested, she noticed his breathing slow, and she knew he was passing out. It had happened on more than one occasion that Kyle had fallen asleep on her while they were cuddling. She always ended up seeing him at odd hours, and he always told her how much he loved cuddling with her; how their bodies just fit together so comfortably. She liked knowing he was so comfortable with her, so she let him doze for a while before the prickling of his chin hairs digging into her forehead became too much for her. She wiggled out of his grip, Kyle barely opening his eyes, and scurried off to the bathroom to fix herself up and get ready to leave.

 When she came back, he attempted to get up to walk her to the door. She crawled on top of him, fully clothed now, and kissed him deeply. Told him not to worry, and to just go back to sleep. She would see herself out. He insisted against it for a moment, but she kissed him again and assured him it was fine. They said their goodbyes and she headed out. Definitely was worth the wait.

She was happy that she hadn’t changed her plans with Kyle, even though things had gone so well with Mo. When she had driven home after their date earlier that evening, she felt guilty at first. Or maybe just slutty, actually; having made out with one guy that night, to then leave that date to go over to some other guy’s house for a hook up? Then she reminded herself that she is a single, (semi)independent woman. She is allowed to do whatever she wants with her body, and she didn’t owe Mo anything. There was no commitment there, no established loyalty. Until there’s a conversation about exclusivity, she was free to do as she pleased.

That being said, she was still super excited for their second date that coming Thursday. Things with Kyle were always fun, but there was no substance there. Maybe there would be with Mo? Based on her one date with him, she was already feeling hopeful.

Continue to Chapter Eighty

She woke up on the Saturday morning after her escape from near abduction, and debated whether or not to cancel this other date she had set for that afternoon. She was still reeling from her terrifying experience the night before, but after some back and forth, she decided that this date might be worth the follow through.

She just got a good vibe from this guy. Nothing like the sketchy red flags she saw in Derek, the guy from the night before. This guy, we’ll call him Mohamed, Mo for short. Mo just had a kind energy. Sweet, caring, genuine. Granted, she had only chatted with him briefly online before arranging this date, but their conversations were more in depth than any she had had with Derek. He was well spoken and interesting. He replied quickly and in full sentences. Mo was a better conversationalist throughout their short texts exchange than were most guys whom she had chatted with for weeks.

What really got her, though, was that in his main pic, he was wearing a sweater very similar to one that Jordan had worn. Any association to Jordan made her feel comfortable and secure. She could only tell so much based on a photo of a sweater, but the point is, that while her guard was very much still up, she felt it would still be worth while to meet up with Mo. Plus it was just a casual afternoon coffee date not far from her house.

She was running a bit late so she messaged him and asked to meet for 2:30 rather than 2pm. He was fine to adjust the timing. They both lived in the suburbs, where the only coffee options seemed to be Starbucks or Tim Hortons. She was delighted, then, when Mo suggested another coffee shop in the area.

It was actually more of a cute little sandwich shop that happened to serve coffee and pastries too. It was packed when she arrived, but fortunately Mo had arrived first and had been able to secure them a seat. He stood up to greet her, and they hugged awkwardly. He smelled delicious. Just the right amount of cologne. Some guys can really over do it. His was perfect.

They left their coats to hold their table, and went up to the front to order. “Are you hungry? Do you want a sandwich? They have great desserts here, too!” Mo offered. “No, no, I’m good. Just the latte for me, thanks” she replied. He chuckled and said, “Sorry, it’s the Middle Eastern in me. I just naturally want to feed you!” they both laughed, and she felt her guard go down slightly.

They went back to their table with their drinks and began the typical get-to-know each other conversation. They talked about their jobs, their interests, their families. Mo divulged that he was a former fitness trainer turned government analyst. He had two law degrees but had changed his life course when he fell in love with training. Life progressed, and he found a more lucrative career, but kept training his few remaining clients on the side. These clients of his were often elderly, or had some kind of physical limitation. He would train them at their homes a few nights a week, on top of his 9-5 government job. How sweet is that?

Mo was charming and charismatic and interesting. She was genuinely enjoying her time with him. Of course, though, she is an overly open book. And having just lived through that frightening ordeal the night before, she ended up unloading all of that experience on him. He was a real gem, though, and fortunately he was receptive and empathetic towards what she had just gone through. He offered her as much comfort as a stranger could in regard to a situation like that.

After she had gotten that off of her chest, she was able to relax a bit more. They both talked about their past relationships, some trauma they each carried. Their conversation flowed so easily, all of a sudden they realized that three hours had gone by. He asked if she was hungry now, which she was, and he offered to grab them a sandwich. She accepted, and Mo went up to the counter to order. It was then that she glanced out the window to her left and saw the pub across the parking lot. She asked if he’d want to move from coffee on to a real drink. Mo agreed and canceled the order. He pulled her chair out as she got up (a true gentleman), and they headed over to the bar.

They were sat in a booth high-top on the bar side of the restaurant. Mo sat in the chair facing her, and she sat in the booth facing the bar. Perfect for people watching. The server came by and they ordered their drinks and their late lunch/early dinner. The conversation just kept flowing. Never had she ever been on a date where she felt so comfortable so quickly. Especially after her harrowing misadventure the night before, she was blown away by the connection she and Mo seemed to share.

They chatted, they laughed, they each confessed some embarrassing tid-bits about themselves. It was one of the best first dates she had ever been on. It was going so well, in fact, that after bonding over their love for stand up comedy, right there at the table Mo booked them two tickets to a comedy show that coming Thursday. Bold move to book a second date before the first date ended. She was flattered and excited at the prospect of seeing him again, and was happy knowing he felt the same way about her.

All of a sudden, it was 8:30pm. They had been deep in conversation for six full hours. She could have stayed and talked forever, except, she had arranged a hook up with another guy that night! Never in a million years had she expected this date to go so well, or to continue for as long as it had. She thought she would have been home by like, 4:30pm. Plenty of time between that date and her tryst with a former FWB.

Earlier that week, she had opened up FB Dating and saw that Kyle had Liked her. Her stomach dropped. It had been over a year since she and Kyle had spoken. She had muted him on Instagram, but she knew that he had continued to watch her stories throughout that time. When she saw him on the app – this sexy, Black, muscle-bound, god-like man – she instantly felt a twinge.. downstairs 😉

Sometimes in those situations she would try to play it cool, but not in this case. She matched with him immediately. It wasn’t long before Kyle replied and sent her his number (which she had never deleted). She texted him and they had arranged to meet that Saturday, around 10pm when he would be finishing work.

In the moment, that seemed like more than enough time between her coffee date with Mo and her meet up with Kyle. That is, until her date with Mo went so damn well. She ended up having to lie and say she had plans with a friend so she could leave and go get ready to meet Kyle. Was this a classy move? No. But fuck it. A girl’s gotta get it when she can 😏

They left the restaurant, and Mo walked her to her car. Of all the dates she’d been on during her life as a single gal, it was rare that she had ever really hoped for a goodnight kiss. It was also rare for a guy to be ballsy enough to make the first move. Mo was obviously feeling the same vibe as she was because when they got to her car and she turned to face him, he confidently grabbed her around the waist, pulled her in and kissed her. A strong but soft kiss. Just a little tongue, small lip nibble at the end. Oof. Very hot.

When their lips parted, a cheeky smirk grew across her face, and she bit her lip as she looked up at him. The sexual chemistry was through the friggin roof. She thanked him for a wonderful first date, and he said the same. He headed back to his car and she got in hers and drove away, smiling from ear to ear…

Continue to Chapter Seventy Nine

Since she and Jordon had ended their time together, she had been having no luck whatsoever meeting up with any new guys. They’d match, they’d chat, they’d make plans to meet, and then something would either come up and they’d bail, or she would just be fully ghosted.

It didn’t bother her, really. Except she was just really fucking horny! All she wanted was to meet a hot guy, have some fun, go their separate ways. And yet, guy after guy kept disappointing her before even having a chance to disappoint her in person. It was for this reason that when she matched with a guy on FB Dating, that she ignored all his red flags.

Once they matched, he messaged her almost immediately. Derek was his name, supposedly. They chatted very briefly on the app before he asked if they could switch to texting. She usually didn’t give out her phone number so quickly, but in this case she did.

As soon as he texted her she asked him to send her a pic of him giving the peace sign so she’d know it was him. In all the times she’d exchanged numbers with a guy, this was the first time she felt the need to ask for a pic like that. She wasn’t sure why, but she just knew something was off with him.

He replied saying, “You’ll never believe this, but my camera’s broken”. “You’re right,” she replied, “I don’t believe it. But I’m choosing to accept this information.” He then sent her a couple pics she had already seen on his dating profile. Whatever, she thought. It’s probably him.

It was then, though, that she noticed his area code was not local. She googled it, and saw that it was an area code for a northern part of a neighbouring province. As odd as that may have been, she didn’t know where he was from. For all she knew, he could very well have had a long distance phone number.  

They chatted a bit that day and agreed they’d meet up the next weekend. They chatted off and on throughout the week, until one day she received a text from a different number, but with a more local area code. “Hey, It’s Derek”, he said. “I had to get a new number. I was getting all sorts of random calls and stuff”

Though a somewhat plausible excuse, she still got a sketchy vibe from him. And yet, she still chose to accept the information he had given her. “Oh okay,” she said. Then asked, “Well now can you send me a pic?” “I told you my camera was broken”, he replied curtly.

“I just thought maybe you had gotten a brand new phone, in which case your camera would have been fixed” she explained. He then sent her another of the pics she had already seen. In hind sight, she should have kept the thread from his previous phone number. In accepting what he had said, however, she deleted the texts from his other number and carried on chatting with him on the new number.

Of course she thought this behaviour was weird at the time, she just continued to ignore her instincts. Continuing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

They had agreed to meet that Friday. She had had an appointment that evening, so she suggested they meet at 8pm once she was finished. He asked if they could meet for 9pm instead. Fine, whatever. He had originally wanted to meet at a shitty little dive bar in a sketchy part of town. She shut that down quickly. She had no desire to meet this sketchy guy at a sketchy bar. He then suggested a popular pool hall, one which she had been to several times before. “Okay perfect”, she agreed.

That Friday came. As she got in to her car, plugged in her phone for GPS and got on the road, a text from him popped up on her dashboard screen. Siri read it out to her, “Hey, my cousin told me about a cheaper place nearby that we could go to instead. No line ups to play pool either..”

What did she care about it being cheaper? She would happily pay for herself. She also didn’t care about long lines to play pool. “We can put our names on the list and then have a drink and chat” she replied. “But we could be waiting hours and hours to get a table. Do you want that?” Siri replied for him.

Her patience for this fucking guy had dwindled to almost nothing. So why, in that moment, did she not just turn around and say, fuck it? Instead, she voice replied “Fine, whatever. Give me the address, I’m driving”

She waited for a response. No response. She drove to their original meeting place because she didn’t know where else to go. She checked her phone and realized her voice text had never gone through. She then texted him again, told him where she was, and asked once more if he was sure he wanted to go to this other place. Why the fuck didn’t she just go home??

As she waited for him to reply, she texted her two girlfriends in the group chat and told them about this annoying fucking guy who kept dicking her around. They agreed how sketchy and weird he was acting, but nothing to warrant full on alarm bells… yet. Red Flags, though, definitely.

Fifteen minutes went by before he just replied, “Ya”, that he still wanted to go to this other place. She replied that she would meet him there, and told her friends where she was going. As she was driving there, Siri read out another text from Derek, “Can you wait for me in the parking lot so we can go in together?”

She ignored the text, didn’t respond. As she pulled up to this secondary location, she recognized it as yet another dive bar. A sketchy ass place she had been to only once before, a few years ago, in an already inebriated state. It was not a place you take someone on a first date. As she pulled around back to the parking lot, she noticed there were no lights, except one from a yard a few fences over. Only enough to dimly light a portion of the cars.

She reversed parked in the only parking spot available and looked to her left out the window, as she faced the drivers side window of the white SUV next to her. It looked like there was someone sitting in the front seat. Considering the type of establishment she knew this place to be, her immediate thought was that someone was getting a BJ. For some reason, that was a good enough reason for someone to be in a car, that she accepted her theory as fact and looked back down at her phone.

She texted him that she was there, but didn’t tell him she was waiting in her car. She also texted her friends to update them. It was then that one of them asked her to send a pic. She went back to screen shot a pic of his profile on FB dating, only to find that he had already unmatched with her..? She reported back to her friends and they told her to get the fuck out of there!

Without hesitation, she plugged in the GPS to get herself home and peeled out of the parking space. A quick left out of there and she was at the parking lot entrance. She lightly released the brakes and inched up, looking left to see one of those long, accordion type buses pulling up. Common courtesy, this bus driver should have seen her trying to get out and given her space to merge, before pulling up to the light, which then would block her in to the parking lot. He chose option B.

She panicked yet was fully in control as she reversed in a flash, pulled left, and drove off the curb of the side walk behind the bus. Sharp right and straight down a side street, she parallel parked like a god damn pro and texted her friends to tell them she was okay.

She sat there for a bit to get her bearings and calm her nerves, though she didn’t feel fully freaked out. The reality of what had just happened hadn’t yet set in. As cars drove past her, she started worrying that one of them could be this “Derek”, so she blocked his number, took a deep breath, and drove off.

As she was driving, a “No Caller ID” call popped up on her dash-screen. How can he be calling me if his number is blocked? Shouldn’t he not be able to contact me??, she thought as she ignored the call. It timed out, and then a text popped up, “Hey, sorry I was late. I was super nervous,” Siri read out.

She ignored that too and just kept driving. Except, she realized, she couldn’t go home. She had lied to her parents and told them she was going to play pool with a friend of hers, and that friend’s husband and his friends. It had only been an hour since she had gone out. She couldn’t go home yet for fear of having to explain to her parents what had just happened. Instead she pulled in to the parking lot of the nearby mall, close to her house.

As she sat alone in her car, in an empty, eerie, parking lot at 10pm on a Saturday night, her friend texted her and asked about Derek having given her a different number. “Yeah, he changed it mid-week,” she replied.

Her friend then responded that she had told her husband about the situation, and the part about changing phone numbers literally made the hair on his arms stand up. He immediately thought – sex trafficking.

It was then that the severity of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Broken camera”, red flag

Changed his number, red flag

Changed locations, red flag

Chose dark, sketchy, unsafe area as new location, red flag

Deleted dating profile/unmatched, red flag

Sketchy vibe in general, your gut telling you the whole time something was wrong, RED FLAG! RED FLAG! RED FLAG!

She suddenly started shaking uncontrollably. Like as if she had just done a polar dip completely naked. She was shivering yet she felt hot. Flushed. What the fuck had almost just happened to her?? Why hadn’t she trusted her instincts?? To have sex? To have what likely would have been mediocre sex at best?? That was enough to potentially risk her life??

Her friend was a saviour and let her text her late in to the night, long after she had finally gone home. When she did get home, though, both her parents were still awake. She made up a lie that her anxiety had been really bad and she hadn’t wanted to stay out with her friends any longer. Both her parents asked her separately if she was okay. “Of course,” she replied. Then she looked in the mirror. She was white as a ghost. Almost translucent. Pure terror was splashed across her face. Good thing it was dark in the hallway where her parents had seen her.

She finally felt calm enough to say goodnight to her friend, and she spent the rest of the night tossing and turning. The severity of it all getting more and more real the longer she stayed awake. She started replaying different sketchy moments from the night, questioning everything…

Why would he have asked to wait in the parking lot? To just drive by and scoop me up off the sidewalk and kidnap me?!

What if that person in the car next to me wasn’t actually getting a BJ? What if they were waiting for “Derek” as I parked conveniently in the only parking space available?

She then grabbed her phone and checked the number she had saved for Derek, the one she had blocked, against the number that had texted her afterwards. Same area codes, different numbers. Who the fuck texted her?? Was this one guy with a lot of burner phones? Was this multiple peope??

She eventually dozed off, having a restless sleep, to awake the next morning to a missed call from a number three provinces west of where she lived. Was she almost sex trafficked across provinces?!?!

It was now Saturday. She had scheduled another date with a different guy that afternoon. A coffee date with a guy who lived nearby and had given her good vibes right away. She debated canceling, but she chose not to. She had to get out of her head, and she felt much more comfortable about this date than she had about the sketchy one the night before. More on the coffee date later.

The next day was Superbowl Sunday. She spent the morning visiting with family, the early afternoon enjoying the mild weather at a winter festival with her parents, and by evening she had gone over to her cousin’s place for the big game… And by big game she meant, playing peek-a-boo with the babies while everyone else watched football.

Before the game started, she was filling her cousin in on her harrowing experience from two nights prior. Y’know when you tell a really traumatic story, but you’re so desensitized from it that you make light of it and the other person is horrified? Well that’s what happened there. Her cousin almost burst in to tears at the thought of her being nearly abducted. She knew then that this wasn’t something she could just laugh off and move on from.

Her cousin told her she needed to report this to the Human Trafficking hotline. Her friend had also told her to do that too, but it hits harder when you hear it more than once from two separate people. She promised she would call the next day.

She ended up being too busy at work the next day to even take a breath, let alone relive some new potential trauma while reporting it to the authorities, so she called the Human Trafficking hotline over her lunch the following day.

The woman who answered the phone had a pleasant, soothing voice. The woman listened intently while she unloaded all the details from her sketchy date a few days earlier. As she finished, the woman comforted her and reminded her not to blame herself. The people who run these sex trafficking rings are master manipulators and are experts at what they do.

That being said, there was nothing that this woman at the Human Trafficking Hotline could do for her if there was no victim and no crime committed. The woman did, however, suggest that she contact the non-emergent police line and report it to them instead. She thanked the woman for her time, and the woman ended the call by saying, “I’m so happy you’re okay.” As she hung up, a tear or two slid down her cheeks. She regrouped and checked the time. Her lunch was almost over so she would have to call again the next day.

Wednesday rolled around, and she was determined to get this over with so she could move on from it. She sat in her car to ensure she’d have privacy, and dialed the number. She reached the non-emergent police line and another kind woman answered the call. She then began to re-tell her harrowing tale yet again. Fortunately this time, she was able to actually follow through with reporting it.

The woman took down all the details, asked for both phone numbers “Derek” had used, plus the area code for the first number. The woman recorded all the locations, and ended the call by providing her with the police report number, and an e-mail address she could send his photo to so the police would have it on file.

She sent off the information and took another deep breath to regroup. She was happy to have finally reported it knowing that her experience could help prevent something like that from happening to someone else.

Reflecting on what happened, she knows how lucky she was to have gotten out of there when she did. How lucky she is to be here writing about it. This was a serious lesson learned, and a mistake she will not make twice.

The main purpose of sharing this is to remind people, herself included, that if your gut is telling you something is wrong, it probably is. No amount of love bombing, flattering, promises, lies, or even horniness, should be enough to put anyone in a situation they’re not comfortable with. Trust your instincts, and don’t be afraid of offending anyone. They’re opinion of you means absolutely nothing compared to your physical safety and well-being. It’s not an over-reaction, it’s not “just” anxiety. It’s your body’s alarm system telling you that something is not right and you are not safe. Listen to it. It could save your life.

Continue to Chapter Seventy Eight

I was 25 when I met my ex boyfriend. I was insecure, full of self doubt, very little self esteem. I was heavier, and very much brain washed by society to hate how I looked. Also very unlucky in love.

The guy I had been “seeing” had just accidentally exposed that he had a real girlfriend whom he had spent Christmas with, and then proceeded to block me from all social media when I attempted to confront him about it. I felt like no one could ever want me for anything more than a clandestine hook up. I was sad and desperate for affection.

My ex, the textbook definition of an abusive narcissist, saw all that from a mile away. He knew exactly what to say and what to do for me to fall head over heels for him basically immediately. I was so inexperienced and so hopelessly eager to be loved. I didn’t stand a chance.

Three months to the day of when he and I first met, we had our first big blow out fight. I stormed out of his apartment and slammed the door, blacking out on the way home. I have zero recollection of driving. I was there, and then I was home. Until that moment, I had never in my life experienced that kind of rage. And still, I stayed with him for 7 years. It took me 7 years of verbal, mental and emotional abuse to finally realize I deserve better. That spending the rest of my life completely alone would be better than spending another millisecond in that relationship.

I can’t remember the exact moment I noticed a small bump had appeared on my forehead. Seemingly out of no where, there was just this mound growing out of the centre of my face.

At first, I thought it was an ingrown zit and didn’t let it phase me. A few weeks later, though, when it was still there, I started to get concerned. It was hard, it didn’t move, and it was ugly. No one ever said anything about it, but already being as insecure as I was, it killed me. It was all I could see when I looked in the mirror.

I’ve always thought I had a decently pretty face, so being “fat and ugly” (as I thought at the time) and hating every part of myself, my face was my only saving grace. My only redeemable physical quality, I thought. So now with this giant bump on my head, any little bit of confidence I had had disappeared. Another reason I stayed with my ex for so long. He never said anything about it, and I figured anyone else would see it right away and think I looked like some kind of freakish monster. Better to stay with the evil I knew, y’know?

Even more time passed, the bump stayed. It was after another big blow out fight with my ex, a regular occurrence by that point, that it occurred to me; the body manifests anxiety and anger in more than just mental issues. Cold sores can be a result of stress and anxiety. Rashes, headaches… this giant growth in the middle of my face.. was this from stress?

Did this thing start growing because my body needed somewhere to put all my rage and anxiety, so all of a sudden this weird thing appeared on my face? With no other explanation for it, that’s when I chose to believe that this had to be true. I decided that this was in fact a manifestation of all my stress, anxiety and rage from my relationship. And so I named it, my Anger Horn.

Did it make me feel better knowing this is why I had a huge bump on my face? No. But it helped me cope with it at least. And again, no one ever said anything to me about it. When I would bring it up people would say that they never even noticed it. I figured they were just always being nice. How could you not notice it? I saw it in every photo, in every reflection. It was so prominent on my forehead, it actually annoyed me when people would say they never noticed.

I ended things with my ex on January 10^th 2020. On January 31^st I moved out of the apartment I shared with him, and left my dog there because I knew it would be more traumatic for both myself, and the dog, if I tried to take her. I had already tried that and it had not ended well. So it was just me and my dad, driving the 6.5 hours back to my home town from where I was living with my ex. I was free. Free, and incredibly, incredibly broken.

Some months passed. I had spent most of my time since leaving him alone in my room, starting this blog actually. What else could I have done after a worldwide plague hit us and we were all stuck in quarantine?

I did a lot of self reflection. A lot of learning and growing. A lot of healing. Soon we were already 2 years in to the pandemic. I had changed so much of myself for the better. I had grown in to the person I had always wanted to be. I had worked through a lot of my trauma, and addressed the reasons why I had let my ex treat me the way he did. And still, even though I was moving on, this giant bump on my face remained. A reminder of all the bad times I had gone through over that near decade. It was then that I decided I would have to get it removed. It would be the final step in truly letting go of the past that haunted me.

I had spoken to a friend about this, and it was she who had first told me about the term, “Osteoma”. I looked it up, and it did seem like that’s what this could be. I still called it my Anger Horn, but it was nice to have what I felt was an actual diagnosis of it. I booked a doctor’s appointment and asked my doctor about it. She took a look and said that it seemed benign, but what did she know? That wasn’t her specialty, she said, so she referred me to a plastic surgeon.

It was early spring when my appointment with the plastic surgeon rolled around. I had never been so eager to see a doctor in my life. I checked in, waited for a short time in the waiting room, before the very French nurse guided me to an exam room. The very French and distractingly handsome surgeon didn’t keep me waiting long.

He came in, introduced himself, and immediately took hold of my cranium. He pressed his thumb hard in to my Anger Horn and said, “yep, it’s an Osteoma”. I could have googled the full definition and causes on my own, but I hadn’t. So I asked him what could have caused this? He explained that Osteoma’s are caused by blunt force trauma to the head. It’s a mound of calcified blood under the skin. You see it a lot in military folk, from taking hard blows to the head. Often they have to have the Osteoma’s removed because it hurts to wear their helmets. As he was explaining all this to me, it’s like the clouds in my foggy brain parted, and I realized exactly how I had gotten it.

The surgeon suggested we book the surgery for late fall or winter. It would help to do it during the less sunny months, as sun exposure would make the scar more visible. I agreed, and booked it for November. As I left the clinic and walked across the street to the grocery store where I had parked because there was no way I was paying $15 for parking at that clinic, I just started sobbing. Holding it in as best I could until I got into my car and could really let it out.

Once comfortably situated in the solitude of my vehicle, I just wailed, and wailed and wailed. Like dramatic ugly crying you only see in like, really sad, dark, depressing movies. I texted my two girlfriends in the group chat whom I had told about my appointment, and began to explain to them what my Anger Horn actually was and how it came to be.

It was Canada Day 2014. In true Canada Day fashion, it was raining. My ex and I had gone to meet a friend of his (actually, the girlfriend of his best friend) who worked for a beer company out of Montreal. Maybe not a beer company? Maybe it was like an advertising company, or like, something to do with event planning? Regardless, there was a Coors Light Beer Olympics event taking place near our apartment downtown, and his friend would be there, so we braved the weather and went out to meet her.

It would have been an awesome event if the rain hadn’t put a literal damper on everything. We stayed for an hour or two, but were eventually too cold and wet to really enjoy ourselves, so we went back home. I can’t recall exactly the sequence of events that occurred after that, but I’m fairly certain that my friends had invited me to their own Canada Day event. Since our day had ended prematurely, I assume I would have asked if he would have wanted to go to this new Canada Day bash with my friends.

He hated my friends. Mostly because they hated him and saw right through him. He knew that the more time I spent with them, the more he risked losing me to their logic and knowledge of what a horrible human being he is.

We had a fight. A big one. One of our biggest. We both screamed at each other. He punched a hole in the drywall of our bedroom to try to scare me. And when I still wouldn’t let up, he threw his half full flask at me. It hit me directly smack dab in the middle of my forehead. I stumbled back, grasping my head. Instinctively I want to just crumble to the ground in to a pile of tears, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction.

I stormed out. Shaking. Crying hot, slow, steady tears. I couldn’t go home to my parents and tell them what happened. I couldn’t tell my friends. They would tell me what I already knew but wasn’t ready to hear, that I should leave him. I wouldn’t be ready to leave him for another 5 years.

Instead, I called a co-worker and went over to her place. A huge goose egg had already started to form on my head. My friend gave me an ice pack and helped me wrap it around my head. We talked all night. I cried and cried. But in the morning, I had to go back.

My ex apologized. The goose egg eventually went down. And by the time I really noticed the Anger Horn, so many other things had happened, it really didn’t even occur to me as to why it was there or what it was from. It didn’t occur to me until I was sitting in that exam room. And now that I knew exactly what it was, it was my mission in life to get rid of it. It was already a reminder of trauma when I thought it was just an “anger horn”, but now it was literally the physical embodiment of all the terrible shit he put me through. It had to go.

Several months passed before the surgery was to take place. It was October 2022, my appointment wasn’t until November. Still, even though I had waited 8 years by then, all of a sudden I couldn’t wait a second longer. I called and moved my appointment up to their first available date. A week before Halloween. Whatever, I’ll take it.

The day finally arrived. The French nurse showed me to the exam room, had me lay on the bed, and proceeded to poke my face with what felt like a hundred needles as she began to freeze the area. She left to get the surgeon, and I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling. A wave of calm I’d never felt before took over my body. I had never been so sure of anything in my life. This was the beginning of a whole new chapter for me.

The surgeon came in, talked me through the steps, and then we were off. He sat behind my head, and the nurse pulled what looked like a dentist bib over my face, to protect my eyes from the light and any spray off from the osteoma removal. I couldn’t feel anything, but I knew he had begun his work.

He made a decent sized incision in my forehead, and used some other contraption to keep the incision open. Then, the big, white, calcified blood mound was exposed. Next step, scraping. That’s how they do it, guys. They just scrap and scrape and dig and dig. It’s basically like, soft bone at this point. Harder than cartilage but softer than real bone. And he just dug away at it. It didn’t hurt because I was frozen, but I could definitely feel the pressure.

I asked the nurse to take pictures for me. She laughed, but when she realized I was serious, she was happy to accommodate. I could hear them chatting to each other in French. Some of their conversation was just general co-worker banter, but I did hear the surgeon say something to the effect of, “damn, this is a good one”. Thanks?

After what turned out to be just under an hour, but what had felt like an eternity, it was done. The surgeon sewed my face up, put the scar tape on, and applied the gauze and tape to cover it. When it was okay for me to sit up, I did, and I looked at the tray beside me. It was just covered with the bloody chunks of anger horn he had scraped out of my forehead.

I wanted to cry with joy but it was hard to scrunch my face up. I paid $1,100.00 from my moving out fund to have this monstrosity removed from my head. Worth every god damn cent.

My mom picked me up. I came out of the clinic with a bandaged face, and a headache brewing as the numbing was wearing off. What better time, then, for my mom to stop at the grocery store before going home? “I just have to run in for a few things” she said hurriedly. I was in no state to protest, so I just lay in the reclined front seat as she ran in, holding my head, tears of joy streaming down my temples and in to my hair.

Finally made it home, and I went right to bed. It would be two days before I took the gauze off. I was instructed to leave the scar tape on for at least two weeks, or if they fell off sooner that was okay too. If I thought I had a horn before, the physical trauma from him scraping away at my forehead left me with an even bigger mound on my face. I knew it would go down eventually, but I wanted instant results.

It was a week in to November that I was finally able to take the scar tape off. I don’t know what I expected to see. A giant gash? Bruising? Dried blood? It was a bit underwhelming, then, when I took the tape off to see just a small, tiny pink line on my forehead. Some light bruising around the sides, but over all, from afar it just looked like I might have bonked my head slightly. It was nothing. That surgeon was a miracle worker!

I sat on the end of my bed, wet and naked except for a towel after having just gotten out of the shower, and I just cried. Cried and cried and cried. It was gone. He was gone. Officially gone forever. Fucking finally.

The scarring from this surgery can range from non-existent, to remnants of the bump lingering if you don’t crush the scar tissue enough during the healing process. I crushed the shit out of that thing. Every morning and every night, I would apply the vitamin E cream the surgeon referred me to, and pressed as hard as I could on it. I could feel the scar tissue moving. I could feel it breaking down.

About 5 weeks post op, I made a follow up appointment with the surgeon. As well as it was healing, it didn’t seem like it was going down enough. When the surgeon looked at it, through the surgical mask he was wearing I saw his jaw literally drop. He couldn’t believe how good it looked and how well it had healed so shortly after surgery. Fuck yeah!, I thought. It was then that I realized how good it really did look. I just needed confirmation that I was taking care of it properly.

At the time of writing this, I am now 13 weeks post op. The scar is barely visible and the scar tissue has gone down immensely. There’s still a small bump if you touch it, but its more spread out now, less protruding like the osteoma itself had been. You’d never even know anything had been there. I sometimes catch a glimpse of myself and expect to see my anger horn. Like phantom limb syndrome, maybe? But it’s not there. It’s gone. The reminder of all the trauma I went through is now just a memory.

I had been avoiding writing this essay. I didn’t want to go back and relive the realization of what this was, and relive parts of that time in my life again. Except now that I’m coming to the end of this post, I’m happier than I was before. I know that this era of my life is for me. I’m doing things for me. Self care level, 100. And if anything, this experience is just a reminder of all the things I will never let anyone else to do me ever again. Like I said, this is the beginning of a whole new chapter for myself. An exciting chapter of self love and acceptance.

If this story resonated with anyone at all, first of all I’m really sorry you’ve gone through whatever it is you’ve gone through. But I hope you take with you the knowledge that you, too, deserve better. Whatever you have to do to get yourself to a place of joy and self love, do it. Your happiness is paramount. And once you achieve this level of joy, self confidence, and self worth, there’s a whole world of possibilities just waiting for you. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel safe. You deserve self love. Do whatever you have to do to get yourself there. I promise you, it’s worth it.

Stay tuned for more chapters, Wednesdays at 8pm

After their sexy romp in the woods, she and Jordon continued to see each other fairly often throughout the next few weeks. They had so quickly slid into this instinctive, natural, comfortable “couple” mode.

He cooked for her, they cuddled on the couch watching new and interesting shows. He gave her forehead kisses, and they continued to have great sex. Without her even really noticing, she all of a sudden found herself headed towards what felt like something serious.

That realization scared the shit out of her.

Jordon had demonstrated to her over and over again that he could quite literally be the best person she had ever met. The kindest, most thoughtful, most understanding, light hearted and supportive guy to ever exist. He never got upset, always put a positive spin on things. He was always ready for a new or fun activity, and he thought she was hilarious. So why, then, did she have such trepidation about their relationship progressing to something more committed?

She agonized over this uneasy feeling, building and building in the pit of her stomach. She knew, deep down, that it wasn’t him specifically that she didn’t want to settle down with, but rather that she just didn’t want to settle down with anyone. She just wasn’t ready for a serious relationship and she concluded that if Jordon wanted something more from her, she would just have to woman-up and end it with him.

She couldn’t bare the thought of leading him on. Not only because of how unfair that would be for him, but knowing that if things got messy between them, it would affect not just the two of them, but their extended friend group as well. So much of their social lives were intertwined with one another that she suddenly felt trapped in this official-unofficial relationship she had unintentionally gotten herself in to.

After coming to terms with her feelings about Jordon, the next few days were spent with a dark cloud over her head, following her around everywhere she went. She was miserable. She didn’t want to hurt Jordon’s feelings, but she knew that there was just something missing between them. Something not quite right. Something she needed in order to fully allow herself to let someone in.

One weekend in November, her friend had asked her to pet sit for her. Her friend had the sweetest old dog that she loved spending time with, so she was happy to stay with him for the weekend. Not only that, her friend lives in a beautiful. gigantic house in a very desirable end of town. It was fun to play pretend every now and then, imagining she lived there herself and that she actually had her shit together. It was also the perfect opportunity to have Jordon over to finally sit down and tell him how she felt.

She invited him over on the Saturday night. He arrived around 5pm and was blown away by the grandeur of this house, as well as her adorable weekend roommate. Jordon, gentleman that he is, did not come empty handed. He had offered to bring the wine, and had also graciously stopped for the few ingredients for dinner that she had realized she had forgotten when she had done groceries earlier that day. She gave him a quick tour and then poured them each a glass of the wine he had brought.

Jordon had been cooking her dinner every time they’d hung out since their second date. Though she didn’t want to commit more to their couply routine, she also didn’t want to miss the opportunity to cook a delicious meal in a gorgeous chef’s kitchen. She had some recipes saved, and ended up making an incredible meal of chicken breast, parmesan sweet potatoes, and heirloom carrots.

Jordon inhaled it all and would not stop complimenting the meal. It felt good to have her food appreciated. Her ex never complimented her cooking. Another green flag for Jordon; still didn’t change how she felt, though. His continued kindness only made it harder for her to build up the courage to say something.

They cleaned up their dishes, poured another glass of wine and she then pulled out the sinfully sweet peanut butter chocolate cupcakes that she had picked up at a local bakery when she was out earlier that day. They were both too full to eat them, so they brought them downstairs to watch TV and eat later.

They put on a docuseries and cuddled up together on the couch. As they sat there, intertwined, her anxiety just continued to build, and build and build. How could she tell Jordon that she didn’t want a relationship, when this entire evening proved the complete opposite? She worried he would yell and scream, be so mad that she “led him on”. Of course, Jordon would never. He was nothing like her ex. Still, the fear of it was all consuming.

The first episode finished, and as the second episode started, she paused it and sat up. “Are you ok? Is everything alright?” Jordon asked, concerned. “Everything’s fine…” she replied as she turned to face him. “You’re so wonderful,” she began, “but I just want to be clear about where I stand and how I’m feeling…” A slow, steady stream of tears fell single file down her cheeks as she word-vomited something to the effect of:

“You came out of nowhere. I was doing just fine, getting my shit together.. Never expected to meet you. Now all of a sudden you’ve come in to my life like a sweet and gentle tornado, and have turned my world upside down. I love spending time with you. We have so much fun together. But I don’t know if I’m in a place to fully welcome someone in to my life. We both have a lot of shit to work through from our past relationships. So as much as I enjoy spending time with you, I want to be clear that I am single, and you are single. And when you go away down south for your sister’s wedding, I want you to have the time of your life. If you meet someone and hit it off, don’t feel bad if something happens. I’m not in a place to commit myself to you, and I don’t want you to feel committed to me in any way. We’re friends, right? We’re friends who hook up and empathize with each other’s trauma… is that ok?…”

She had tried to be as eloquent as possible. No easy feat through the tears she couldn’t control. She was horrified at the thought of her true feelings becoming the catalyst to hurt this kind soul.

In true Jordon fashion, he consoled her and hugged her and kissed her forehead. He replied in a soft, sweet voice and thanked her for her unfiltered honesty. “Not everyone would be so forthcoming. And I really appreciate you not dragging it on. In truth, I’m still reeling from my divorce, and I’m not sure what I want either. From you, or from anyone. I’m happy to keep things are they are. Casual and fun.”

It’s like the weight of the world was finally lifted from her shoulders. She had been so torn between staying true to her own feelings, at the risk of hurting someone else’s. All the while, she hadn’t needed to be. Jordon was a class act, through and through. And because they were both able to communicate their genuine feelings, they were able to continue seeing each other. She didn’t have to end things abruptly, as she had thought she would have.

They went outside to smoke a joint, and to move passed that awkward conversation. They came back downstairs, enjoyed their delicious cupcakes, and had a wonderful night. He even had enough class to realize she didn’t want him to sleep over, and left just before midnight.

She could not have asked for a more perfect evening. His reaction and the amazing night they had had made her second guess her decision, if only for a moment. But no, this was the best thing for her. And she was proud of herself for actually speaking up and setting the boundaries she had never been able to set with anyone else before.

They saw each other once more before he went away for over a week for his sister’s wedding. It was early December when he returned. Their mutual friend has a birthday around that time, so the first time they saw each other after that was at her party. It was mildly awkward at first, but after some drinks, they both got back in to a comfortable groove.

They had a really, really fun time together that night. Having not seen each other in a little while, they could barely keep their hands off of each other. So much so that they ended up having sex in her friend’s bathroom. Her friend was not pleased (woops 😬). Aside from annoying her friend, she kept thinking how great it was that she and Jordon could be so mature and just continue on the way they had been.

They saw each other again once more before Christmas. He cooked her dinner again, but this time her stomach ended up hurting a bit, so aside from the hanky panky they had gotten in to as soon as she had arrived, the night was mainly spent cuddling and watching TV. She left earlier than she usually would have, also. The vibe was definitely different than it had been all the other times they’d hung out, but she just chalked it up to her not feeling well.

The holidays rolled around, and neither of them texted each other “Merry Christmas”. She wasn’t alarmed by it. It was family time, they were both busy. On Boxing day, Jordon messaged her and they exchanged their holidays greetings. They chatted for a little while, but then the conversation fizzled out, as it does. Typically, they’d end up chatting for a bit every day. More often than not, he would be the one to message her first. It would be another three or four days, though, before she would hear from him.

When Jordon did text her, he apologized for having distanced himself a bit. She hadn’t totally noticed, again, because it was the holidays she just figured he was busy with family and friends, as she has been. In his message, Jordon reassured her that his distance had nothing to do with her or anything she might have thought she’d done. She hadn’t thought she’d done anything, and was genuinely unbothered by their lack of communication that week. However, she couldn’t help but swoon a little at his genuine consideration and understanding of her anxious, other thinking brain. Not hearing from a guy you’re fucking for several days would likely send any normal woman in to a bit of a tail spin. What did it say about her feelings for him, then, if she hadn’t even really noticed?

Jordon also explained that he had been going through some shit over the last little while. It being the holidays, he had had a lot of time to think about his life and what he wanted out of it. This was completely relatable to her and she empathized with his feelings of angst and uncertainty. She offered him comfort and advice, and tried to be as supportive as she could be. If anyone could understand what he was feeling, it was her. He thanked her for the chat and they went another few days without speaking.

New Years Eve rolled around, and she had been apprehensive about asking him what his plans were. New Years is a pretty couple-y night, after all. That pressure to have a new years kiss. She hmm’d and haahh’d over it for a while but eventually did ask if he wanted to join her at her friend’s party. He had already made plans with his own friends, so they wished each other a Happy New Year and each went about their own business. It wasn’t until a couple weeks in to January that he reached out again to have another lengthy conversation.

Jordon asked if he could call her. Her stomach sank and a lump formed in her throat. Nothing good ever came of someone asking “can I call you?” Of course she said yes, though. She texted him when she was able to talk, and he called her shortly after.

They shot the shit about this and that. The holidays, his work, her work. Until finally he said that he was feeling unsure about she and him. He confessed that he had been thinking about what he wanted from life and a relationship ever since that night at her friend’s place when she told him how she really felt. He realized that he did think he wanted something more serious and, to her surprise, he admitted that he had read her Reflection of 2022 on the blog.

What she had said in that essay just cemented what he had already been feeling from her. He knew she wasn’t fully in it, and he knew that he needed someone who was. This is not at all how she had expected this phone call to go, but again, they were each able to communicate their needs in the most mature and understanding way. He told her that she was a good person, thanked her again for her continued honesty, and assured her that they were still friends and that nothing would be awkward if and when they eventually saw each other again.

She nearly teared up. Was this a break up? Couldn’t be. They were never together. In that moment though, she had realized what an integral part of her healing Jordon had been.

She had known all along that she would be happier staying single than she would have been if she had settled (for lack of a better term) for Jordon. Throughout that telephone conversation, though, she also realized how valuable her time with him had been. That they had met each other at a crucial moment in both of their healing journeys. He showed her that not all guys are ass holes. He gave her hope that there still are some genuinely good guys out there. He showed her a type of kindness and respect that she didn’t even know she needed. Not only that, they had related to each other so much in their shared grief of each mourning a toxic relationship.

While he showed her the gentleness she needed to see in a man, she showed him that there are women out there who would value him more than his ex had. Though she didn’t want to settle down with him, her honesty and communication showed him the respect he deserved, and was likely lacking in his marriage. They were meant to have entered each other’s lives, if only for a short time.

They ended the call on the best of terms, in the most kind and mature fashion imaginable. She hung up and just stood there for a moment. What a whirlwind. As sad as she was that things had to end, she was so happy that she had always stayed true to herself and had been honest with him. It was easier for both of them, in the end, that they both always knew how the other felt.

Jordon will always hold such a special place with her. She needed him, and she will be eternally grateful for the kindness, understanding and support he bestowed on her.

And so with that, on to the next adventure…

Continue to Chapter Seventy Seven

I don’t know where to start with this piece. I’ve reflected on each year since starting this blog, and each essay has been filled with hope and optimism for the next trip around the sun. This year, however, I don’t know how I feel. I’m literally in the exact same place I was this time last year.

Was I stagnant in 2022? Did I achieve anything I set out to do? Not really. I had hoped to save a bunch of money, that didn’t happen. I had hoped to be moved out and living independently again, that didn’t happen. And I thought I might even have a boyfriend by now, but that also didn’t happen. So what did I do all year?

I guess in general, I just continued to work on myself. This journey of growth and self-discovery is a never ending one. I’m continuously learning new things. Things I never thought I was capable of and am so proud of myself for, and things I’m not so proud of that I need to work on and improve. I guess most importantly I’ve learned that I really am capable of achieving anything I truly set my mind to.

I’ve written about my weight loss journey before, and though I’m no longer actively trying to lose weight, body image is always at the forefront of my mind. I will always have issues with this, it’s just a matter of mastering those intrusive thoughts. I’m continuously learning to not let them overtake my day to day, and just living a healthy lifestyle.

At the beginning of the year I was dead set on working out more and toning my body. I started off well but come summer, I let it slide. The temptation of patio drinks and pub food were too tantalizing to resist. It also felt good to not be so rigid in my diet, as I had been the last 2 years. Come fall, though, I could see myself regressing. It was then that I decided I had to get back on track with working out. I started one of my workout challenges again, and I’m happy to say I’m ending the year in better shape than I started it.

It’s because of this achievement that I know all these things that seem just out of reach for me, are actually already within my grasp. As I did with working out and eating better, I know that to achieve my other goals, I just need to buckle down and push through all the obstacles that are hindering my progress. Specifically regarding my finances.

Before I go deep on the ins and outs of my distressing financial situation, I have to mention that one of the reasons I wasn’t able to save as much as I had hoped to this year, is because back in October, I spent a good chunk of my savings on an elective surgery to have a bump removed from my forehead.

It’s called an Osteoma, which is basically blood that has calcified into a mound under the skin. It’s caused by blunt forced trauma to the head, and is more typically seen in soldiers. Men and women who’ve been in active war zones and have been hit in the head with literal shrapnel or other solid objects, creating large bumps on their heads, making it difficult or painful for them to wear their helmets. My osteoma, however, was caused by my ex-boyfriend. I’ll be delving in to this in greater detail in a separate chapter, but I couldn’t gloss over this experience. Having my osteoma removed was one of the greatest things I’ve ever done for myself. And though it cost more than I ever would have wanted to spend, the peace of mind and the healing that has come from it were worth every penny.

When I left my ex, I left with thousands of dollars worth of debt that I had accumulated from carrying his sorry ass for so many years. I’ve made incredible strides in paying it down, and am currently in the home stretch of paying it off completely. Because of this debt, and my Osteoma surgery, I just haven’t been able to save any money to move out.

I know I’m not the only person who’s felt the debilitating pressure of inflation, and the cost of living rising and rising over the last few years. And while costs skyrocket, salaries have remained the same. I’ve come to the realization that there is literally no chance whatsoever of me ever getting out of my parents’ house on my current salary alone.  I need a side hustle, there’s no way around it.

A few chapters ago I alluded to a financial option I was considering; selling feet pics. I want to laugh every time I say that because it just sounds so ridiculous. But honestly, it’s a genuinely lucrative side hustle. I’m not in the business of kink shaming, and I’ve had dozens and dozens of guys on dating apps comment on my feet (from the one pic I have where my feet are visible). If my feet are such a hot commodity, how can I not capitalize on that?

As viable as this option is, I still haven’t really been able to follow through on it. I tried to take pics of my feet but could never get a good angle, or just wasn’t happy with the pics in general. I also wasn’t sure where to start. What website do I use? How do I accept payments? How do I actually get this off the ground and turn it in to a real, money making endeavor for myself??

A friend of mine is a tarot card reader, and I asked her, “Will I ever get ahead in my finances?” She did a pull for me and, without knowing about this feet pic thing, she replied, “Yes, but it’s going to take something new happening. Something new is coming, an offering. Could be a job offer! Could be a side hustle, too. Either way, it’s a new approach”.

If you’ve read my essay, From Diapers to Desktops, you’ll know that I used to be a daycare teacher, but have since transitioned to an office job. I applied for a Director position at a daycare not long ago, so I thought maybe that could be my new financial opportunity. Turns out, I didn’t get the job. Which just made it all the more clear what this “new approach” will be. The option of selling feet pics just keeps presenting itself to me. I can’t ignore it any longer!

I’ve looked in to it further now, and am almost ready to get this thing off the ground. I found a website, uploaded some high heel pics, and got an overwhelmingly positive response. Men from all over North America were messaging me, offering me upwards of $6-$7,000.00 a month for daily foot pics. I could definitely get down with that.

The issue now, though, is that these foot lovers pay for pics in bitcoin, which I know nothing about. Bitcoin honestly confuses the shit out of me, and scares me a little bit too. The last thing I need is to like, lose all my money somehow? I don’t know. But this is the last hurdle I have to cross if I’m going to dig myself out of this hole. If I’m setting any intentions or resolutions for the new year, learning about Bitcoin is at the tippy tippy top of my list. Imagine where I could be this time next year if I’m actually able to pull this off? I will have finally achieved the final step towards my independence. This would literally change my life.

Aside from my finances, my love life has been something else I’ve struggled with this year. If you’re up to date on the blog, you’ll know that in September I met a really wonderful guy. Probably one of the nicest people I’ll ever meet in my entire life. He came out of nowhere, and since meeting him I’ve had to question everything I thought I wanted for a relationship.

He’s literally the poster boy for my “ideal man”. He’s kind, he’s thoughtful, he’s generous, he’s funny. To look at him you’d never think he’d be as sexual as he is, he just looks like too nice of a guy. But the chemistry between him and I is undeniable. He’s also super sexually spontaneous which is not something I had on my dating checklist but is definitely something I’ve been enjoying. See Chapter 75, for example.

Despite all his good qualities, something is still missing. We fell into an extremely couple-y bubble very shortly after meeting. Within a week or two, he was cooking me dinner, kissing me on the forehead, and cuddling with me on his couch as we watched whatever shows I wanted because he just wanted to make me happy. My heart was bursting over this at the beginning, but I quickly realized, I’m really not ready to let go of being single.

This is the first time in my life that I’ve ever been genuinely happy with who I am as a person. I’ve never been more confident. I want to experience anything and everything. And every one. While the sex with this guy is great, it doesn’t check off all the boxes. There’s more that I want, that I’m not sure he can give me. That I’m not sure any one man can give me, right now. I love being the object of men’s desire, and I’m not sure I’m ready to give that up yet. I have another chapter brewing on this, as well, so I’ll go more in depth about it later. My point is, though, I’ve realized that there’s still so much of myself and of my sexuality that I have yet to uncover. Not only that, I still have so much I need to achieve in my own life before I can be at a point to fully welcome someone else into my world. 

I’ve also come to the realization that in finding myself over these last few years, I may have let some narcissistic tendencies take over my life a little bit. For the longest time, I had been putting myself last. My ex had become the centre of my universe and I existed solely to please him. When I left him, it took a long time to realize that what I want matters. What I like matters. That I, as a person, am whole as I am, and that I matter. This blog and my journey of self discovery has turned me in to the Main Character I’ve always needed myself to be. But now, might have also blurred the lines of thinking I’m the Main Character in other people’s lives too, which is obviously not the case.

I rely so heavily on the advice and support my friends provide me. Their opinions mean so much to me, and have truly helped shape me in to the person I am, and strive to be. Except, their lives aren’t centred around me and all my bullshit. They have their own lives to lead, their own shit going on. And to assume that at the drop of a hat, anyone would be able to help me or have the time to listen to me rant is well, like I said, narcissistic.

Fortunately, I’ve taken steps in the right direction to remedy this issue. Instead of relying on my friends to provide me with their sage-like advice, I’ve finally gotten myself back in to therapy. My new therapist looks like a literal teenager, and I have no idea how she could have more insights in to my life than I do. For me, though, it’s never been about being given the answers, I just need someone to talk to. A sounding board. Someone to whom I can unload the cluttered nonsense in my head, and come out the other side a little clearer. I’ve only had two sessions so far, but each time I’ve left feeling a little better than I had before going. Getting back in to therapy will allow me to channel my neuroses towards the right person, and to stop relying so heavily on my friends to help me solve my problems.

I try so hard, every single day, to be the best version of myself that I can be. I try to radiate the love and light on to others that I hope to receive in return. I never want to be a burden on anyone, or someone who thinks solely of their own needs, disregarding the needs of others. And while I think I do a pretty good job of that, in general, one can never be too self aware. I just hope to be the kind of friend that I’d want to have, myself. I’m already so fortunate to have amazing friends as it is, and I always want to ensure that I am worthy of their friendship.

After getting all of that out of my head, I’ve just proven to myself that I was right. I’m no further along in my life right now than I was at this exact time last year. What’s also remained the same, though, is my determination and drive to just keep trying. To keep pushing forward to achieve my goals, and the knowledge that I’m nowhere near perfect, but really, who is? As my boss likes to say, “Mistakes are just proof that you’re trying”. And isn’t that all anyone can ask of us? Just to try?

So here’s to another year of trying to be the best versions of ourselves that we can be. Sending love to you and yours, for a very happy new year. All the best to you in 2023 xo

Stay tuned for more chapters. Wednesdays at 8pm, EST.

It was mid-Autumn, peak colour changing season. She loved hiking, and had been dying to get out to see the leaves turn. Jordon was more than happy to be her hiking buddy. They had each spent the weekend with their families, and were both very eager to see each other by the time Thanksgiving Monday rolled around.

She drove out to his place and, or course, they had sex immediately. She noticed he had changed up his moves a bit since the last time she’d seen him. He had actually listened when she had told him that she liked a guy to take charge in the bedroom. He was a good student. A+

Afterwards, they fixed themselves up and were ready for their hike. There were some great trails about an hour out of the city. He offered to drive, so she played DJ. Unfortunately, his music was a lot of EDM stuff that she wasn’t in to. Definitely not her preferred road trip tunes.

As she did with her other friends who liked that type of music, they compromised with some Red Hot Chili Peppers. It was a beautiful, picturesque drive. The whole time they talked, they sang along with the music, and Jordon’s hand rarely left her knee.

They finally made it to their chosen trail, got their back packs on and began their climb. It was a gradual incline at first. She and Jordon were mistakenly cocky, agreeing that they were both in better shape than they actually were. They were proven wrong when the incline increased and they began huffing and puffing their way up the mountain. It was beautiful though. The trees, the colours, the gorgeous day they lucked out with. It was perfect.

When they finally made it to the top, there was a family sitting at the prime lookout spot, having a picnic. As much as they wanted to see the view, they didn’t want to disturb this cute little family. So they walked around and, fortunately, found another lookout that was a little more secluded but with equally gorgeous views. Jordon was smart and had packed some weed and his vape. He got it ready and they each took a few puffs.

Now, all of a sudden, the view was just that much better. The colours were more vibrant, and the breeze was that much more soothing. While munching their little granola bars, Jordon wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, and they gazed out over the red, yellow and orange tree tops below. After a little while they decided they were ready to head back. It had been about an hour and a half hike up, so they knew it would be a while until they got to the bottom.

As they hiked down, they started talking about their past relationships. She confessed that if she had had to choose, she would rather have a kid in the future than get married. Though she knew she was happy to not have kids at present. Jordon confessed that he didn’t think he’d ever want to get married again. “Good to know”, she thought to herself. 

At what felt like the half way mark down the mountain, Jordon suggested they pull off towards a secluded side trail to smoke his vape again. They walked a little ways down to the side, away from other hikers, completely out of sight from the main trail.

He rummaged through his bag and got the vape out again, and they both took a couple tokes. When they were done, Jordon put it away, but instead of putting his backpack on again, he looked at her and smirked, and they started making out.

This was one of their more intense make out sessions. Definitely had a lot to do with the weed, but also just the excitement of being outside, in public. The risk of being caught.

Soon, Jordon’s hands, which had been firmly gripped on her ass, slowly moved their way across her body. One hand held her around her waist, the other slid smoothly down the top of her leggings. All of a sudden, she was holding on to him for dear life as he fingered her right there in the woods.

It felt incredible. One of the most amazing feelings she’d ever experienced. It was so intense. She was so turned on. She wanted to scream with pleasure but she held it in, making the sensations that much more powerful. All of a sudden, she felt an explosion. Her knees went weak and Jordon literally had to hold her up.

Holy fucking fuck. Who is this guy!? For someone so kind, thoughtful and respectful, this was the last thing she expected from him. He seemed like too nice of a guy to be adventurous like this. She never in a million years would have expected a tryst in the woods with him. She was pleasantly surprised.

A giant smile spread across his face, and he kissed her deeply as she regained her footing. She was flushed and flustered and couldn’t believe what had just happened. She could barely form words. As she fixed herself up and Jordon took a sip from his water bottle, her thoughts quickly flashed back to her ex.

So many times he had begged her to do that. To hook up in the woods on one of their hikes. She had always said no. She was terrified of getting caught, and she knew now in hindsight that a lot of her hesitation had to do with her lack of trust in him. She never felt safe with her ex. Ever. Clearly that was not the case with Jordon.

She sipped some water and they kissed again, just as they heard some other hikers in the distance coming down the hill. They waited for them to pass and for their voices to fade before they resumed their descent.

Jordon guided them down the path. She held his hand tightly for support, still shaken from that mind blowing experience. Clearly Jordon was still worked up, too, because he kept stopping and turning back to her. Grabbing her face, her hips, her ass, and pulling her in to him to make out again.

It was obvious that neither of them were done, but the more they stopped, the longer it would take for them to get back home to really be able to go crazy on each other. She pulled her mouth from his and told him to keep going. Each time he obliged, but each time he’d turn around again and they’d start all over. It was only when they saw those hikers that had passed them up ahead that they kept their composure and were able to make it off the trail.

They got in the car and like magnets, began kissing again. It was insane how difficult it was to control themselves. “Drive. Drive!” she exclaimed as she pulled herself away and buckled her seatbelt. He did the same and made a hard U-turn out of the parking lot to head back to his place.

Jordon’s hand was instantly back on her leg, as it had been on the way there. Except this time, he couldn’t keep it in one place. He moved his hand slowly, slowly up her thigh. She felt a tingle and hoped he’d do what she thought he would do. He then reached his hand smoothly up her side, and slowly pulled her leggings back, putting his hand down her pants.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” She thought excitedly. After getting her off so intensely in the woods, Jordon was now fingering her again with one hand, as he drove like a pro with the other.

This was the sexiest, most exciting sexual experience of her life. (Or at least tied for first with her bathroom tryst with Kyle). The sensations were other worldly. There aren’t enough words in the English language to properly express how turned on she was. How good it felt. How exciting and thrilling this all was as they drove past other cars, other drivers unaware of the intense pleasure she was feeling in the car next to them. She finished four times. Not to mention the dozens of mini orgasms she felt in between.

At the same time, she couldn’t just leave Jordon hanging after her pleasured her so well, so many times, throughout their hiking adventure. After she was done, she shakily moved her hand over and began giving him a handy as he drove. He moaned with pleasure and gripped the steering wheel tightly. He couldn’t finish because there was no where for it to go, which made the whole thing all the more exciting. They couldn’t get to his place fast enough.

Finally, he pulled in to his driveway and they both leapt out of the car. Jordon basically broke down the door, rushing to unlock it and get his hands on her again. They busted in to the house, slammed the door behind them, and immediately began tearing each other’s clothes off.

He pushed her up against the wall, grabbed her wrists tightly and held them above her head. He kissed her, he touched her, he ravaged her. It was all so intense. They couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, they just had super hot sex right there in the hall way.

Best. Hike. Ever!

Stay tuned for more chapters. Wednesdays at 8pm, EST.

The remorse Jordon felt when she told him she had Covid.. my gosh. He felt so bad! It hadn’t even occurred to her at first that he could have given it to her, because Covid doesn’t present itself so soon after exposure. It was then, though, that he reminded her that he had gone to an EDM festival the day after the wedding, where they had first met a week prior. And though he had taken two Covid tests and both were negative, they’re not 100% accurate. He could have been asymptomatic. Regardless of how she got it or from whom, she didn’t blame him. Shit happens.

Six days of Covid hell, and she was back to her healthy(ish) self again. To make it up to her for getting her so sick, Jordon offered to have her over and cook her dinner. The last guy that had made her dinner was that guy Tom who she accidentally ghosted when she met Kyle a week later. (Woops!) Tom had also been a really nice guy. So nice it scared her and she ran, legs open, into Kyle’s bed. She promised herself not to repeat her mistake, and excitedly accepted Jordon’s dinner invite.

Friday night rolled around, and since she worked fairly close to Jordon’s house, she drove herself there this time. He greeted her at the door, and she barely had a chance to put her purse down before they were making out again. “Damn! He sure does like kissing!” she thought to herself as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

A few tongue filled minutes later, Jordon brought her in to the kitchen to show her what he was making. He had potatoes marinating in olive oil and Greek seasoning, asparagus and peppers ready to grill on the barbecue, along with some marinated chicken breast. And he bought her her favourite wine! AND he got them vegan nanaimo bars for dessert because he knew she was trying not to eat dairy. AND he even went and picked up some weed for them, even though he didn’t really smoke weed anymore but he knew that she did.

Who IS this guy?! And, seriously, where the fuck had he been all her life?? Geezus…

He poured them both a glass of wine. They cheersed, took a sip, and he was right back to kissing her. They put their glasses down and started making out again in the middle of his kitchen. It started heating up, and they both agreed dinner could wait. They ran upstairs and went crazy on each other.

He was eager to please her. It was all about her at the beginning. She guided him in the right direction, and while he was close, he didn’t quite hit the mark, but it did the trick. He definitely warmed her up, and the sex itself was great. Not the best she’d ever had, but he as a person made up for that. Plus it was only their second time. This was all new to both of them, and they were still discovering each others’ bodies, their likes and dislikes. He earned points, though, for his eagerness to learn.

This couldn’t be real. Did she actually meet a legitimately good guy? Someone who was kind and sweet and had his shit together, but who was also good in bed? It was always one or the other. The ass holes really seemed to know what they were doing in the bedroom. The nice guys knew how to treat women as, y’know, human beings worthy of respect, but they always seemed to lack in the sexy areas. Jordon seemed to excel in both.

Once they had eased the sexual tension, they were able to go back downstairs and carry on with their evening. Turns out asparagus and peppers directly on the grill is fucking phenomenal, who knew?? (everyone, probably). The chicken was maybe the juiciest, most flavourful chicken she had ever had, and the potatoes – chef’s kiss! Everything was delicious.

As they ate, they chatted about anything and everything, but mainly their past relationships, dating, and life in general. Jordon asked her real questions and was sincerely interested in her response. He was vulnerable with her about his past love life and what he saw for his future. They confided in each other about their health journeys, and how they each pulled themselves out of the hole they had found themselves in when their respective relationships ended. It was surreal to her to participate in a genuine, in depth conversation with a guy. Someone who actually cared about what she had to say, and who was actually interesting enough to carry the conversation forward.

Is this how like, real grown ups feel? In real relationships? Is this what the start of a legit healthy relationship felt like?? Was she ready for that? It was all so foreign to her, not being treated like shit. Or not just being used as a fuck toy. As much as she appreciated it, she couldn’t quiet the anxious voice in the back of her head telling her it was too good to be true.

After dinner, Jordon topped off both their wine glasses and the busted out his vape. He had bought it two years prior and then decided he was quitting smoking weed. It was basically brand new and she, having never really smoked a vape, discovered quickly how effective they are. They were both stoned AF as they settled in to a comfortable cuddle and put on the show, The Bear. She had already seen it, but Jordon hadn’t and she was happy to watch it again (also, if you haven’t watched it, watch it. So good.)

They watched an episode or two, and inevitably, they started making out again. This quickly seemed to become one of their favourite pass times together. Kissing inevitably turned in to more sex. They couldn’t get enough of each other. After some intense cardio, they had worked up a bit of an appetite again and were able to make room for those delicious vegan nanaimo bars as they watched one more episode.

It was pretty late by the time it finished, and they agreed it was a good time for her to head home. Another extended makeout sesh at the door, and she was on her way. She drove home thinking about how, just, incredibly nice Jordon was. Never had she ever met a guy who just wanted to make her happy. That was literally his only objective when they were together, to make sure she felt safe and cared for.  

Again, they texted non-stop throughout the next week. Chatting about everything and nothing all at the same time. The upcoming weekend was Thanksgiving. They both wanted to see each other but each had family commitments. Turns out, though, they were both free on the Thanksgiving Monday, so they made a plan to go for a hike…

Continue to Chapter Seventy Five

That kiss with Jordon was a whirlwind. She had simply gone outside to get some fresh air, and by the time she came back in, she had experienced this earth shattering connection with someone she had never expected to meet.

He had left and gone home, but she and her friends were headed to the wedding after party at the bride and groom’s house. The party which the bride did not attend because she crashed as soon as she got home. The rest of the group stayed up until the wee hours of the morning. She and Kaitlin had gotten to talking, and she tried to play it cool regarding her makeout sesh with Kaitlin’s brother.

Kaitlin was chill and pragmatic about it. She talked her brother up saying what an amazing guy he was, but also confided in her about some of the hardships he had faced throughout his previous relationship.

Jordon had been married to his ex for five years, together for fifteen. High School Sweethearts. By the end of it, he was depressed, had gained weight, and was not living for himself. Kaitlin didn’t go in to too much more detail other than that, but she was comforted by Kaitlin’s story. Many of Jordon’s experiences resonated with her own.

She and Jordon messaged on Instagram for a bit throughout the rest of the night. Their conversation continued again the next day as she lounged on the couch in her post-party haze. Her friend and her friend’s husband had stayed over, and her dad had made them a delicious breakfast around noon. It was like they were in high school again. Giggling about shenanigans that took place the night before, hiding their secrets from her parents. Her friend was notably excited for her, but she still tried to keep a level head.

It had been about three or four days since she and Jordon had met, and they had not stopped texting the entire time. By mid-week, Jordon asked if he could take her out on a date. She giddily accepted.

He lived in the far west end of the city, she in the far east end. In planning the date, he confirmed that he would drive the 40 minutes out to her place to come pick her up, to then drive them west again to go downtown for dinner. That gesture alone made her knees weak. She was completely unaccustomed to anyone ever offering to come get her. Her friends didn’t even do that, she was so out of the way! But he chivalrously would not accept her offer to meet him downtown. Eventually she succumbed to his kindness and sent him her address.

It was a Friday night, one week to the day after their first encounter. She had specified that he not park in front of her house as her parents had a giant bay window out of which they would surely see him, and thus begin prematurely planning their wedding. He agreed to park in front of the neighbour’s and would text her when he arrived.

She changed her outfit like a hundred times, but she finally settled on something in which she felt both sexy and cute. The perfect first date look. He texted her when he was outside, and she hurried out to meet him.

She got in his car and greeted him with a smile and a nervous hello. He immediately turned to her and went in for a real kiss. She was not expecting tongue 0.3 seconds in to her date, so she awkwardly gave him the cheek. He was smooth, though, and moved past it as they headed out to dinner.

They parked in a parking garage a short walk from the restaurant. In anticipation of extensive traffic, they had left about 30 minutes earlier than was necessary, and now had some time to kill before their reservation. She suggested they take a stroll around downtown, she always loved the energy of the bustling city core. Jordon had other ideas.

He looked at her and leaned in. “Oh, I guess we’re making out again!” she thought to herself as his lips touched hers. Their energy went from calm and cordial, to hot and heavy real fast. They were full on making out now. Like, wet, sloppy, intense making out. It was a bit too much for her at first, but she got in to it. She felt it was just because she hadn’t expected it. Was he just like every other guy, only in it for the physical?

After several long, tongue filled minutes, she had to pull her face away and insist they head out. She could feel the eyes of passers by peeking in on their steamy car makeout sesh. She also didn’t want to give the wrong impression that she was so easily swayed in to giving it all up. Which, let’s face it, she was, but that’s not the impression she wanted Jordon to have of her.

They fixed themselves up and got out of the car, heading out towards the restaurant. They arrived and were seated right away. The restaurant was dark and moody, classy and elegant. She had heard of it before but had never been. Jordon’s likeability points were piling up for having chosen such a great spot.

The server came by and listed off the specials. They ordered their drinks and continued skimming the menu. She wouldn’t describe it as an awkward silence, but there were definite moments of quiet uncertainty. She always hated bringing up her ex, especially on a first date, but she knew that’s where they held their common ground, so she asked him about his past relationship, and she confided in him about hers.

The server came back and they ordered their appetizers. They both chose a delicious butternut squash soup, and their entrées. Jordon got a mushroom gnocchi which sounded delicious, aside from the mushrooms. She ordered cauliflower steak with cashew cheese and an overload of quinoa and veg. Everything was just so mouth-wateringly delicious.

Once they each had a drink in them, their conversation flowed more easily. He was kind, he was funny, he was sweet, he was smart. He was successful, he was self aware. He’d gone to therapy, he was working on himself both physically and mentally… Literally the perfect, most well rounded guy she could have ever asked for.  All that and they had great sexual chemistry? “This can’t be real”, she thought.

They finished their meals and the waiter returned asking about tea or coffee. They both declined. The waiter then suggested, likely against his boss’ wishes, that they stop at a bakery just down the block for dessert. He raved about their donuts and other delicious sweets, so they agreed to go take a look.

Jordon paid the bill like a gentleman, and they gathered their coats and headed out. The bakery was just a few steps away, but as they approached, they saw the line was out the door. As tempting as it was to try these heavenly baked goods, they were both too full to waste time waiting in line.

As she peeked in the window, Jordon came up to her from behind, put his hands on her hips, and pressed himself up against her. “Do you want to grab some dessert here? Or go back to my place for dessert?” he whispered in her ear. She was receptive to the innuendo and they made a B line to the parking garage.

Their comfortable conversation flowed easily on the drive back, but as soon as they got to his house, it was right upstairs for them. For a first time, the sex was pretty wonderful. They both fumbled a bit getting in to a groove, but their connection and attraction to each other was undeniable. They both finished and lay there for a moment, just soaking it all in. Then they got dressed and he gave her a little tour of his house.

She could hear the pride in his voice after having done a few minor renos, and because this was the house he bought when he moved out of his shared home with his ex-wife. She was happy for him. They hung out for a little while, but it was getting late so she gathered her things and he drove back across the city to bring her home. They kissed goodbye and both agreed that there would most definitely be a second date. She got out of the car with a smile on her face.

She enjoyed the rest of her weekend, and even had the Monday off for the Queen’s funeral. Monday morning, she had woken up with a super scratchy throat. She thought it was from sleeping, mouth agape, with the window wide open. Still, by Monday evening, she had decided to take a Covid test, just in case. She did the swab, let it sit, and when she returned to check she saw no double line. “Phew! Negative!” she thought. For some reason, though, she didn’t throw the test out. She left it on the counter and said she’d deal with it in the morning.

Tuesday morning came. She felt fine. Got up, showered, did her hair. Came downstairs to put her coffee on, and happened to glance over at the test on the counter. To her surprise, she saw the faintest, tiniest, little red line. “Oh fuck!” she said out loud to her dog.

She ran and grabbed another test and, sure enough, she was positive for Covid. She called her boss, still feeling healthy as a horse, and told her boss she wouldn’t be in for the week. This being her second time around, she knew to sanitize everything she had just touched, grabbed a mask from the hall closet, and headed back upstairs to her bedroom. And so began her long, boring week, of recovering from Covid… which she very likely contracted from Jordon. Because of course 🙄🙃

Continue to Chapter Seventy Four