The best laid plans...

By Friday, Eric and I were talking again. Constant texts and emails throughout the day. I found myself getting lulled back into him... Feeling stupid for all of these breakups and re-defining what we are to one another. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

And when we spoke that night, he described to me yet another interaction with his ex-wife. And that was it.

By the next morning, I told him we needed to go cold-turkey. No more talking. No more texts. No more emails. For a couple of days at least. I can't be his best friend. Not when a best friend would be able to listen to him process how he's feeling about her at any given moment. I can't do that and keep my sanity intact. It hurts too much.

I spent the rest of the day kicking ass. Building a bookcase. And on top of it, I placed an item he'd bought for me on the trip we took for my birthday. And I couldn't resist letting him know.

And that night I went out with friends. And got a little tipsy.

And, here's the thing: Not long ago, I shaved my head. For a thousand reasons (999 of them unselfish, shockingly), I drastically changed the way I look. I am very fortunate in that most people seem to agree that I am one of the lucky few who has a nicely shaped head. But still. I have no hair. And then I broke up with my boyfriend. Why, hello, single woman who won't be finding another man anytime soon!

Haha.

But that night, I was strutting. Feeling good about myself. Confident. On a mission to kiss a stranger. Because that would make me feel good.

It didn't happen. I performed a random act of kindness or two before heading home, but I was going home early and I was going home alone.

Some neighbors were hanging out outside as I walked toward my apartment. And the sexy Indian guy asked me what had happened to my hair. And I explained and they all said it was very noble of me. And the Indian guy told me I am beautiful and asked me if I had any plans right then and did I want to go shoot some pool?

I turned him down for a hundred different reasons, but wow, did I feel good about having been asked!?!

And that was about when I was getting pretty horny. (What? I do! And sometimes the vibrator simply won't cut it.) But I didn't want a stranger. I wanted Eric. I mean, I really, really, really wanted Eric.

And I knew he wouldn't have his kids on Sunday. I had plans to meet up with a girlfriend, but I began planning out a wicked little fantasy.

My plan was to go to his place, seduce him, sleep with him in his bed, and leave this morning, knowing I wouldn't see him or talk to him for a few weeks this time. I wanted to leave my mark on him, my scent in his bed... I wanted him to know what he was missing out on by not being able to love me while he still loves her.

Because I actually seem to have the ability to love more than one man at a time. I don't think the love I have for The Ex takes away from the love I have for Eric at all. Although, I suppose the love I have for Eric does temper the love I have for the Ex a bit. Hmm. I hadn't realized that until just now.

Anyway. Eric has told me before that for him, absence makes the heart grow fonder... So, I wanted to make damn sure he had something amazing to remember me by. And then while we were apart, he would realize how much he loves me and he would magically get over his fears and find his way back to me. That's when we would start our happily ever something or other.

Beautiful fantasy, right?

You're either thinking "Wow, she's brilliant." or "Gawd, what a bitch."

I didn't realize what a bitch I was until I was actually sitting next to him. Because, of course, he said I could see him when I asked. And, of course, he would pour me a glass of wine. And, of course, he would not be able to resist kissing me as he had last week.

I had him right where I wanted him.

My intentions were clear. He had no willpower to resist me. And, I will admit that made me feel pretty damn sexy. All was going according to my plan. I was finally able to show off the sexy underthings I'd purchased weeks earlier with him in mind, and things were going beautifully.

And then...

He said the words.

Fuck.

That SO wasn't what this was supposed to be about!

It was supposed to be about sex. (Shut up. Don't act like you've never used sex to get something you want. And I was just making a long-term investment. Shit.)

And he fucking tells me he loves me?!? Out loud for the first time?!? Gawd, why can't he just be a normal guy who just wants to get laid?

Eesh.

Of course, that wasn't enough to shut me down. And we spent a lovely night together. And I laughed about how "nothing screams "walk of shame" louder than heels click, click, clicking up the stairs at 6:30 in the morning..."

So, no. I didn't cut him off completely today. And I ended up telling him all about my evil little plan... Which, shockingly, did not include attempting to coerce him into telling me he loves me. I swear upon anything I could possibly find holy that was not my intention.

And he didn't just tell me once.

But I giggle about how when we spoke on the phone this afternoon, there was that awkward moment as we said goodbye... "Will he say it? Will I?"

Yeah. No. Not ready to throw that out there all casually for quite awhile.

So, once again, Retromama's a gal who pretty much gets what she wants when she goes after it. Although, every now and then she gets far more than she bargained for...

Today, she's grateful for all it turned out to be... But don't ask her where they stand because that's a big fat "I don't know."

She's just taking things as they come... Both literally and figuratively, apparently.