I find myself in a curious predicament and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.
I’m so used to being with men who fail to stimulate me mentally, or physically. If I find that, then sadly they aren’t interested in me, or they don’t want to date or be in a relationship. I’m at a bit of a loss to have found someone who mentally, physically, and emotionally – is all good. To top it all off, he really likes me.
The kicker? Oh, just that little pesky 5,000 miles of distance between us. I jest not. It’s 4,600 miles. Thank Google for pulling up facts so quickly.
So yes, I met this dude named Matthew and based on countless hours of texting, phone calls, and emails, over the course of the last month, we decided to meet up. And now, as I reflect on the time together, it’s as if the last five days were a dream. A glorious, passionate, wonderful, dream.
I arrived about an hour before he did. We had decided it would be more romantic to meet at the hotel instead of the airport. I also knew it would give me a chance to pace around the room, brush my teeth and hair, and make sure my panties were clean and appropriately sexy (lace thongs aren’t always the most comfortable thing for long flights, you know). And post what I’d written on the plane.
I’m used to flying, having been a frequent flier in the past, so I whizzed off the plane with my carry-on suitcase and within 3 minutes was in a taxi. Shortly after that was checking into the hotel. Up to the room which had the biggest bed I’d ever seen. It was I think what’s called a “california king”…bigger than two twin beds side-by-side. I wore something that I knew I’d be okay with in case I was delayed and he saw me before I could change. The first 15 minutes I was at a loss…roaming around aimlessly. I said to myself “okay Ann. Get focussed. What are the priorities”.
Brushed teeth, brushed hair. Checked armpits for being smelly (they weren’t). Made sure I had enough makeup to look good but not so much it looked unnatural (I’m pretty much just an eyeliner and lipstick girl even on the best of days). Changed my undies into something appropriately lacy and sexy. Uploaded my “en route” blog post. Texted my Mom to tell her I arrived safely. All was well.
Matthew texted right after he landed. I couldn’t stop wandering around the room. 25 minutes later I got another text that said “might be a bit, a hundred people in line for a taxi”. My heart sank. So close and yet having to wait even longer. Then boom – 20 minutes later:
2 minutes later and I’m pushing open the door to let him in. There he was. Matthew. In the flesh. He was exactly my height. He was around the corner and there was this confusing moment where I couldn’t see him. He said he didn’t know exactly which entrance I’d be coming from. Then he came into the light, smiling. I realized then that most of his photos didn’t show him smiling. It was off-putting for a nanosecond and then my brain registered that yes, this was the same guy. I could see that he was broad-shouldered and as handsome as he was in his pictures. My arm still holding the door open, I leaned forward to kiss him. It was soft and tentative and electric. I said “I guess I should let you come in”.
And then I took him up to the hotel room.