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Last week Dreamboat PM’d me on Facebook to invite me to a costume party.

It’s an Egyptian Steampunk Costume Party.

Sounds fun, right?

As you may or may not know, I am not a social events type of girl – especially if I don’t know anyone there and I don’t arrive at the choice to go there on my own.

That latter bit is something I just learned about myself. Maybe it seems dumb that I didn’t see that before now, but I am stubborn. If I feel any pressure at all to do something I don’t want to do, I then want to do it even less.

Recently I have been forcing myself to get out and do those different things, but they are events and environments and times of my choosing. That way I can feel a little more in control of the situation…  and I can leave whenever I want.

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Flattered?

Flattered?

Inside my head I have tossed about whether or not I want to share this story with people. To this day I haven’t told a single person because I am ashamed to admit what happened and how I feel about it now. But, if I really am treating this like my diary and I am laying it open for strangers to read me and judge me and maybe help me understand me (and hopefully other people) a little more, I should probably tell you that I made a choice 2 summers ago that was a horrible, horrible choice.

I messed around with a 25-year-old boy.

I’ve always been a flirt, it’s fun, but no one has ever taken me seriously before, especially guys I worked with (except my Loverman – I actually wanted him and flirting with him was completely and utterly different)!

So… Young Man and I were both at the same holiday work party and we had both been drinking a little.
(FYI – Loverman hadn’t been talking to me for about 8 weeks at this point. He was being petty about something I said when I was frustrated with him. So he was refusing to talk to me in any way, shape or form. That was a very low time for me – I don’t like looking back ot how hurt and confused and lost I was. Anyway…)
Young Man’s face got kind of close to mine… There was some heavy breathing… Hands may have wandered up my shirt… My hand may have grabbed onto something rising up in his pants…  But, that was all it was! Drinking and flirting and touching — still wrong, I know…

The next night we worked together I talked to Young Man about it. Told him that there was no way that it would be any more than that one night and that one time. Well, because we worked together, he had my phone number and he sold really good smoke so I had his number…

But… Things started getting extremely awkward with him so I stopped getting my smoke from him and I asked him to stop calling/texting me. I even tried scare tactics (because sometimes the truth is very scary):

  • I told him that the dentist had to pull all except for 8 of my teeth
  • I told him that I had another seizure and I wasn’t allowed to drive any more
  • I told him that my husband is super sick and getting weekly dialysis treatments

The calls and texts stopped for a few months — I thought he had lost interest (maybe he had a girlfriend) — WOO HOO!  Then, one day out of the blue he texted me, to tell me where his new apartment was — YAY! across the fucking apartment complex from mine! Oh, Shit! Luck really would have it that he would move here, of all places! His last apartment wasn’t even close to my neighborhood, and he liked it there – WTF!?!?

I never told him where I lived.

I am flattered, to say the least. Creepified, to say the most.

I don’t think that he chose his apartment knowing that I live there – I think it’s just a very very creepy coincidence (probably life’s funny way of reminding me to be way more careful!). Also, I can’t understand his persistence. I am very flattered, but what the hell is it about me? Is it that he can’t have me? Because if he could, I think he would be sorely disappointed with my 40-year-old, stretched-out, wrinkly, saggy body (at least that’s what I would expect a 27-year-old to think). And I am even more sure that there are plenty of ladies out there that are my age that actually want to screw a 27-year-old!

Plus, he is completely clueless about when to call, how to act and what to say when he does call. He gets offended and sends me a rude text if I don’t pick up the phone or respond to him immediately. I have told him more than once that I am a mother of two teenage girls and I am very careful about what I say and how I act around them. Also, he knows that I am married. So, why he expects that I can have a sexual conversation with him at 6PM while normal families are eating dinner is completely beyond me.

I am relieved that this only happens a couple of days a month and he stops after I answer him and say “no, we can’t do this”. But then, he’s back at it again in a couple of weeks! He’s nothing if he isn’t persistent.

It’s all very surreal, because I certainly don’t consider myself to be a “cougar” or a “MILF”. I do think that I am an attractive and, at times, extremely sexy woman – but a “cougar”?!?!…

Flirting with him, leading him on, touching him and letting him touch me.
WOW! Bad choice, bad choice, bad choice. Complete lack of good judgement on my part (or any judgement at all, really). I had no idea I had so much power! Shit!

I understand that this is kind of pretty serious, but it’s crazy funny to me.

I don’t want to have sex with that boy! I want him to leave me alone. Every time I tell him that it can’t work. I am too old. I am busy enough and complicated enough already. It seems like he becomes more intrigued.

But this boy’s antics make me feel so horribly, horribly good and I kind of don’t want him to stop.

How bad is that?