Between Sunset and Sunrise

Strange how a little piece of apparel can bring such change into one’s life. I’m speaking, of course, about the Little Black Dress mentioned a few posts back—here in the Now. To reiterate: I purchased this classy, little black dress and posted myself wearing it on my dating site. I’ve had an increased volume of mail since. There are two suitors who have connected with me, and I booked ‘meet-and-greets’. I’ll write about them in subsequent postings. They are both so unique and as different as sunset and sunrise.

 

Sunset

Alan is the teacher. Our conversations on the phone are long and rambling. We have revealed so much to each other within these calls, and we both admit to feeling like we know each other, but we have not met. Our emails are exchanged daily and we’ve been on the phone nightly. These calls last about an hour.

“I told my friend about you. I told him about your boot camp fitness classes and he couldn’t believe it. He said to me, ‘Do you know what boot camp is? It’s like what they do in the army! It’s really tough!’ So tell me, Adrienne, do they scream at you in your face like they do in the army?”

“No! Absolutely not! If they did I’d probably start crying, I’m such a wimp. But it is high cardio and I can’t always keep up. I try, though. After New Year’s, we had an increase in volume at the classes, due to the resolutions people make… there were a couple middle-aged guys there. I made a comment to them that it was great to see some men attending. So twenty minutes into the class… I think we were doing sit ups… I looked around and they were gone! They just figured it was way too tough and left the gym.”

He told me that he is proud of me for pushing myself like that.

We also talk about personal struggles.

“There is power in prayer,” he wrote in response.

He’s charming, sincere, and his last letter he went on about how close he feels to me without ever meeting.

“Our masks are off, Adrienne,” he wrote.

And he’s right—we have revealed so much to each other and crossed bridges of intimacy that most people never do so soon. It does feel special to me. I’m meeting him on the weekend.

“I’m not scared,” he said to me the other night on the phone, while I was under the comforter in bed, talking into the night, and him living so many miles away, in that huge estate home of his, with the For Sale sign on his front lawn. His broken family home.

“Not scared of what, Alan?”

“Scared of meeting you, Adrienne. I am a little nervous… I have to admit.”

“You don’t have to be. We know each other now. It’s not like meeting a stranger.”

And on we talk, until we say “good night”, which has become our custom.

 

Sunrise

And then there is Mr. Argentine Tango. Why is it that a Bad Boy always makes an appearance in our lives right when we feel we’re over that kind of dysfunctional relationship? I’m not certain that he is dangerous, but there’s a sense of excitement about him. Admittedly, I feel the lure. He looks so debonair in his black suit and bolero hat.

We’ve only had one, lengthy phone call. He opened up to me, as well, telling of his broken marriage and the subsequent torrid affair that lasted five, tumultuous years.

“It was the most passionate, sensuous relationship I’ve ever had, Adrienne, but the woman was unbalanced, I soon came to realize. She was so incredibly insecure and couldn’t bear to have me out of her sight. So I’m left wondering… can I have this kind of amazing physical relationship with someone who is… normal? Or does one come with the other?”

Good question. I know what he means. This is a subject for a later installment.

Our meeting has been delayed due to scheduling conflict. The two of us are like that George Clooney movie Up in the Air, where the lovers are at their laptops trying to figure out when they can meet. We are both so busy. Finally I suggested that next week, after I climb the Chief and go to my Rec Center for hot tub and steam, I’ll meet him at a Thai restaurant on my way home. This eatery is in his area of the city. So this is our plan.

Mr._Tango wrote me an email this morning written in Spanish:

Buenos Dias Senorita.
Tus ojos son oscuras como olvido.

I asked my co-worker, who speaks the language, to interpret.

Your eyes are dark like the oblivion.

Thanks to Mr._Google, we discovered that his line is from a tango called Malena.

Hmmmm, I thought for a minute it was original, but Bad Boys beg, borrow and steal for romance. You have to get up pretty earlier in the morning to keep an eye on them.

 

(This is proof positive just what the Little Black Dress can do to spice up your love life, ladies. I’ll keep you posted—of course. AM)

 

Between Sunset and Sunrise © 2011 Adrienne S Moody. Read the latest Adrienne outdoor adventure and romantic exploit on Now.readthisplease.

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