Honestly, to be kissed.
It was all I wanted.
I did not want a boyfriend or anything.
Just one kiss.
Or maybe a few.
But it did not happen.
With the first.
Or even the third guy I went out with (even on two dates!).
The second guy/second date sucked.
I was not attracted to him.
I did not want him to kiss me.
I did not want to kiss him.
But he had heard me complaining about date number one.
So I took him up on it.
Plus I really wanted to see a particular movie.
As we were walking back to my car, he called me something that just completely made me cringe.
He called me "rich."
Yeah, not anything horrible per se but I hate being called that.
Yes, I have a semi-nice car. But nothing outrageous.
And I had a lot of crappy cars before this one.
Cars that lasted less than a year (most only lasted a few months).
So when I moved back to Florida, I bought a brand spanking new car.
Hence, I never talked to that kid again.
There were other reasons too but that was the tipping point.
The third guy I dated was a little better.
I met him at another birthday party for a different friend.
A friend that I knew through Roger and have remained friends with.
I was looking hot.
I had bought a really cute short skirt and a top that really flattered me.
My friends Kathy and Randy were shocked. "Wow, Star, you look great. We will have to fight the guys off with a stick."
"No, do not fight them off. Please do not fight them off."
Jack, Kathy's friend, saw me and started talking to me.
And then he asked the question.
"So, how do you know Kathy?"
"Well, I met both Kathy and Randy through my husband."
I kind of figured Kathy and/or Randy had told him my story before we actually met that night.
He did not know the fate of said husband.
So I had to say, "You know my story about my husband, right?"
So I told him.
He seemed to handle it. He was taken back but he was processing it well. So I thought.
He got my number and said he would like to see me sometime.
I said "sure."
We went out that week. First date was okay.
We ended up going to the same restaurant as Roger and I did for our first date.
But I tried hard not to think about it.
It was also the day I got back the final court order.
But I was okay. I was cute and friendly.
I asked him questions. Answered his. Normal date stuff.
Now there was one weird thing.
He told me about some health problems he has. Not sure why on the first date but...
My gut reaction, "Oh my God, he is going to die. If I date this guy for real, I could go through the exact same thing AGAIN!!"
My counselor said this was a normal reaction.
I went on another date with him to a movie.
But then... we never saw each other again. [He does occasionally talk to me online but...]
And I still did not get kissed.
Damn it! I just wanted to be kissed.
During this same time, I was flirting heavily at school (and pretty much everywhere else I saw a cute guy).
And I mean heavily.
I was being so forward. So brazen.
Kissing and being touched was all I could think about.
I was like a hunter looking for that one deer.
I so needed to be touched.
I needed to know I could feel again.
I needed to know I would feel again.
So one of my classmates, Sam, and I started flirting.
He was 22.
It started in class.
He invited me and a friend to a bar to see a band.
We did not go but he got my number and we became friends over facebook.
We started chatting over facebook.
We started texting.
We started flirting over text.
We started teasing each other.
Then one night after a basketball game he called me.
He wanted to see me.
"Well, I am not exactly at home but I am on my way there. I can meet you there."
We met at my house.
I was freaking out.
My head was running a million miles a minute.
My house was a mess.
I looked like a mess.
I had onions for dinner.
A guy was going to be in my house.
A guy I had been flirting with.
He could not stay long.
And that was fine for me. I only needed one very simple thing.
We sat on my sofa.
I started trembling.
I was trying to make small talk.
My head was saying "Just kiss him."
Telepathically, I was trying to tell him "Kiss me now."
Nothing was happening.
Fine. Fine. Fine.
I attacked him.
Yes, I attacked him.
I kissed him.
As my lips were completely shaking, but I was getting a kiss that night.
I did feel again.
It was not weird.
I did not feel guilty.
I kissed a guy in my house and I did not feel guilty.
Yay!!! I was ecstatic.
Poor Sam though.
I was pretty much done with him.
He served his purpose.
I was no longer attracted to him.
Classes were about to end.
So I never spoke to him again.
Dating lesson number two: most people cannot handle knowing I am a widow right away. And kissing is still fun.