Auggies Fireflies

So, I met this fellow online in April of 2017. Richard. I hate that name Richard. He was interesting, intelligent, funny, witty... it's the wit that usually attracts me the most. He was crazy funny, and corny as hell. I'd use the word eccentric, but he's way too much fun for the images conjured up by that word. Class clown maybe? He had an excellent vocabulary. He used words that I hadn't heard before. I gauged him to be at least as intelligent as me and probably more so. That doesn't happen very often. I was delighted.

At the time I started up with Richard, I was damping down my "sexual reawakening" phase. Having met several men over the previous six-month period, and having slept with a subset of those, I was tired of the casual sex thing. Sex is never casual for me. It's silly for me to ever imagine and then pretend that I can be intimate with a man and not develop some level of connection and warmth and affection towards him. And if I only see him once, it always stings a bit. Maybe for a handful of days, maybe only until the next fellow takes my mind off the last, but still. Unnecessary angst I introduce into my own life. I have a slew of ways I manage to sabotage myself.

I kept up a steady banter with Richard. Sometimes he was the one that took the initiative in our communication. In fact, for most of the first few weeks, it was all Richard who took the initiative. I was preoccupied with other things, namely other men.

I liked Richard. I spent a lot of time thinking about Richard. He was married, still, to a woman that had left him five years previous. He stayed married, he explained, so his oldest son could stay on his health insurance. That didn't make a lot of sense to me, but so be it. It didn't matter much to me because Richard wasn't a "keeper". I occasionally thought he might be a keeper; he would occasionally surprise me with something he said that was exceptionally witty or profound. But, for the most part, Richard was a fun guy to talk to. A fun guy to spend time with. I knew we'd be friends for a long time. We had that chemistry for certain. We were kindred spirits in many ways. Most certainly in the friendship way.

A couple of weeks into our "friendship", we met for our first liaison. That day, I must have been thinking Richard might just might just might be a keeper, because I started with the Klonipin a couple of hours before he arrived at the hotel. Klonipin is an anti-anxiety drug. So, after the first Klonipin, I thought maybe I should take another, and so I did. Once you have two Klonipin in you, if it seems like a good idea to take another, then another, then another, you just do it. And after about three Klonipin, you don't remember how many Klonipin you've taken, so it seems like a good idea to take another Klonipin. Before you know it, you've taken who knows how many Klonipin. And you are very relaxed. The good thing about Klonipin is it takes away all your inhibitions. So even if you're self-conscious about your body, you are a wild woman in the sack. The bad thing about Klonipin is that you don't remember much. Just bits and pieces, and usually only when someone recounts the events for you.

I remember when he got to the hotel, I opened the door and just hugged him for a long time. I remember squeezing him tight. The next thing I remember, and this could be majorly out of sequence, but I remember he came to bed wearing sweatpants. I don't know what he had on top, a hoodie maybe? Or a t-shirt? But good lord, sweatpants. I told him to take off his clothes that I wanted to feel his skin against mine. He did. Under extreme protest I might add, but he did.

He snuggled up against me spoon style, and I felt him rise against me. I reached back and held him and felt him come fully erect in my hand. I scrambled down to take him into my mouth. I pushed my mouth as far down his shaft as I could, then slowly drew my mouth up. He moaned. At that moment, I knew I had control. I was impatient for him to enter me, so I moved into position and pulled him inside. I wish I could remember more. I remember he went slow, and then I remember he went fast. When he went fast, the bed slammed against the wall. I wondered if there was anyone in the next room. Then I thought "I don't care!"

The next thing I remember, he was at the door and he said goodbye to me. I didn't remember him kissing me goodbye. He says he did. I wish I could remember. Because now I love Richard. And that was our first time together. And it should have been magical and special and memorable. But instead it is largely a big blank.

After that, and I'm not sure why exactly, but after that, I ruled Richard out as a keeper. He had a firm fast hold on a long-term friendship with me, but I knew he wasn't someone that I could be romantically involved with long term. We'd be friends with benefits. We both agreed. FWB. Yes. That was all it would be. But we both agreed that that would be a wonderful thing and that it would be enough.

Richard continued to take the lead in communicating with me. We'd text a couple of times a day, he'd call and we'd talk every couple of days. Then, about a week after we'd had sex, I didn't hear from Richard for a day, then two days. I had become accustomed to him paying attention to me, seeking me out for conversation, liking me, being nice to me, complimenting me, telling me he loved my body, flirting with me, telling me what an excellent lover I am. I dig on that. Doesn't every woman?

I texted him a terse message: "Richard, I never figured you for the type of guy that would ghost me." Within a short period, I received a voice mail from Richard. He explained work had been very busy and he was not ghosting me at all. I was still miffed. Me, thinking I deserved to be worshipped by Richard. How incredibly arrogant I was!

I had a phone conversation with Richard where in a very accusatory tone, I told him that he didn't have time to date and he shouldn't have a profile on a dating site. I told him that I knew he had warned me that he had kids and his life was busy and full, but now that I was experienced the impact of that, I didn't like it. Richard asked if I wanted to go back to being "just friends". Now that I remember how I felt at just that moment, I remember I didn't agree to any such thing. I let the question go unanswered. Then we got into a conversation about classic literature, and he was able to delight and charm me into a better mood. That is his gift.

For the next few days, Richard was back to his consistently attentive self. I was pleased. He was back under my control. Or so I thought.

Over the next week or so, my other potential keepers dropped out of the picture one by one. I was sad. I even mentioned to Richard that I had met someone and we weren't talking anymore. He gave me his "I don't get jealous" speech. (Which may or may not be true.) Regardless, I told him that I wasn't going to talk to him about other men. I knew in my heart he deserved better. He deserved to be the focus of my attention. He deserved to be treated exceptionally well, because he was deserving of my admiration and respect. That realization, that moment of clarity, that was when I started to turn the corner on my feelings for Richard.

And then the clincher. I was talking to Richard on a Friday night. He was in the backyard, drinking his beer and smoking his cigar, talking to me on his flip phone. Ludicrous. Who doesn't have a smart phone in 2017? That is what I call eccentric. I digress.

His five-year-old neighbor, Auggie, came walking up to Richard.

"What have you got there Auggie? A firefly? Do you need a jar for him? Let me get you a jar."

I waited while Richard went into the house and got a jar for Auggie's firefly. I heard them talking. I heard Richard saying "Be careful, get him in there, there you go!" Richard got back on the phone with me. He talked about how Auggie was a special kid, that he enjoyed spending time with him. But that he didn't tell many folks he liked hanging out with the five-year-old neighbor kid because that was creepy. Once again, I was charmed beyond charmed. In fact, right at that very moment, the balance of power shifted. I was no longer in control. Richard was now in control.

To compound the moment and effectively seal the deal, Auggie approached Richard having caught yet another firefly. For a second time, Richard went into the house to get a jar for Auggie's firefly. Who does that? Who does that? Who does that? I could not believe my good fortune. I could not believe my good fortune. I had happened upon this crazy man that had the kindest heart of any man I'd ever met.

Over the next couple of days, I could think of nothing else but Richard. His character, his sense of humor, his intelligence, his thoughtfulness, his devotion to being a father. Everything started to become very clear to me. Richard had all the characteristics of the man I had pictured myself with my entire life. There were the eccentricities to deal with, but the net result was that Richard was The Guy.

I know now that I love Richard. It's new love. It's not got depth or breadth or shared history. I want to tell him every minute all the time that I love him. But it's still hard to say. Partly because every time I tell him I love him, it becomes a little more real, a little bit truer. And every time it becomes more real, I am risking more of myself. I'm putting myself out there, opening myself up to rejection. I'm making myself vulnerable. Yet he is so very deserving of my love. And he has been without a woman's love for so long. He is so overdue. And he is so incredible. And I want him for ME. I want to just eat him up and have him be inside me and with me and all around me all the time.

But love does not demand its own way. Love is a gift. To intentionally love is to expect nothing in return. I said that to Richard and it shut him up. One of the two times I've rendered him speechless. The second time was during the same conversation when he said "You're a giver and I'm a giver and..." and I interrupted with "aren't we blessed to have crossed paths?" Silence. From Richard. Unheard of. The man talks more than I do.

I have no idea what the future holds. Maybe Richard is The Guy. Maybe he's not. But regardless, he has ruined me for all time. I will never be able to even consider marrying a man that does not have the qualities Richard has. I'll never settle or compromise again. It won't be possible. It is abundantly clear to me that I want a Richard. And I sure hope it is this Richard.

The name Richard has grown on me. I love Richard.