I am thrilled to present my first piece for the the Insomnia Club. The Insomnia Club is a collection of talented
bloggers writers that gather once a month to write about the same topic.
Rather unexpectedly, in the back of a cab, Chad leaned in for a slow, gentle kiss. His lips were like soft little pillows and his breath smelled of berries and mint. He cradled my chin with his fingertips as he kissed me. I kept my eyes open the entire time.
This was not meant to be a date. Chad and I had met a few weeks prior during a tweet-up at Posh. We casually chatted on the phone a few times and then, what was suppose to be a friendly brunch had turned into a tipsy tour of West Village pet stores followed by more drinks, dinner and finally, in the back of a cab somewhere near Columbus Circle, that slow, smoldering kiss that would restore my faith in romance.
Oh, no, romance is definitely not dead. In the weeks that followed, Chad flooded my phone with sweet, endearing text messages. Our evenings were spent holding hands while roaming around the Upper West Side or making goo-goo eyes at one another over candle-lit dinners in fancy restaurants. Near the fountain in Central Park, the sun sank behind the Midtown skyline and again, he cupped my face in his hands and gently kissed me. I never shut my eyes.
It was on his birthday, while I was nestled in the nook of his smooth, muscular arm, that he told me how special I was. No one has made him feel this way in a long time. And finally, I let go. I surrendered all doubt and worry. I gave up all hesitation and allowed myself to believe that this could be it. Chad could be The One. Of course, I never said this out loud. I remained quiet, enveloped in his arms with his warm breath on the back of my neck.
And then, just three days after suggesting that we should be exclusive, Chad disappeared. He cancelled our Friday night date and on Saturday, stopped taking my calls. By Sunday, my texts were left unanswered. He also disappeared from Twitter and while I struggled to understand what had happened, our mutual friends silently shrugged with an awkward apprehension.
I was angry. I was hurt. I was confused. In the days that followed, I numbly sat at my desk and blankly stared at the computer screen with glazed-over eyes. At night, I tossed and turned, wide awake, asking myself a million questions. What happened? Did I do something to scare Chad away? Was I too intense? Did I say or do something wrong? Was there someone else? Did he mean anything he ever said to me? Was it all a game? I yearned for answers. I ached for closure. Even though my eyes were open the entire time, I’d never felt more in the dark.
More Totally Tyler: Click Here to read why fingers are important. Especially during sex.
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