Saturday, June 8, 2013

My Week With Mikey


My week with Mikey

 

I could never bring myself to call him Mikey although that is what he wanted me to call him. He was a co-worker who came through my register to ask me out on a date, and requested “Mikey” after I inquired about calling him Michael or Mike. Mikey just seemed to personal to me, and made me feel like his mother which was called for since I was 24 years his senior. He was 23 years old, but would be 24 in October he made sure I knew.

 

What did I see in Mikey? At first not much when I started the job 45 days earlier. I saw him as a young kid, who barely would reply to my “hi, how are you?” questions. Then one day, I saw him staring at my back side as I was facing condiments. That was all it took. I was smitten. I then spent anytime I had alone with him flirting.

 

Mikey was short. He couldn’t have been more than 5’4’ as I was taller then him at 5’4.1/2.’ I have never dated anyone that short, 5’9” was the smallest man I had dated to this point, and I thought that was short. What did I see in Mikey? Besides his incredible good looks, thick brown hair, and thin yet muscular frame, he was a bad boy. He was into heavy metal with a fuck you type attitude blended with a sensitive side. Specifically he like symphonic metal which combined famous symphonic arrangements with a heavy metal beat. He was emotional yet stoic. The perfect combination, I thought.

 

When I look back, my main motivation for dating Mikey was sexual. You see, I hadn’t had sex in 5 ½ years. My last partner was an over controlling, Iranian fiancĂ©, who I asked to leave after all efforts at making our relationship work had been exhausted. I had recently relocated to this new resort town from the city, lost weight, and had a libido in over drive. Mikey fit the bill.

 

On our first date, I learned about his sweet sensitive side, about the love of his life who slept with his best friend, and got pregnant. He even asked her to marry him, thinking the child was his until his best friend set him straight and she ended up terminating the pregnancy. His best friend tried to reassure him that this person was just a girl and therefore an object and he needn’t be so concerned, but Mikey retorted, “she wasn’t an object to me.” This was endearing to me, as it showed me he could really love someone. He even crashed his bike a short time later in a drunken ride that ended with him losing four of his front teeth.

 

Mikey was quick to point out that girls tended to get together with him so that they could get closer to his friends. He said that girls were more interested in “bad boys” and not him. What I later found out was that Mikey was a “bad boy” too, he just did not have that perception of himself.

 

The last time I slept with him, he told me he wanted to date other girls to see where the relationship would possibly go. I prompted this honesty after I told him that he had better never lie to me or be dishonest in anyway. I thanked him for being honest, then told him I would drive him home. Oh yeah, Mikey lived with his father, got around on a BMX bike, and still lived in his childhood room, complete with bunk beds, heavy metal band posters, and naked women on the walls. His electric guitars were close by for serenading purposes. Boy did that work on me.

 

 Working together made the break up more difficult. I was at first mad at his revelation that he wanted to date other girls, and chalked it up to my age. But I now realize it really wasn’t my age, but the fact that I wasn’t the bad girl he wanted me to be.. He inquired why I didn’t have tattoos, wasn’t shaved properly, and ultimately he didn’t like that I was nice to him. I was not what he wanted. I was a good girl, or at least a “classy’ girl as he called me. I guess being an atheist, misanthrope, and malcontent, was not bad enough for him. He wanted the outward appearance of badness, a look that he had cultivated.

 

There were many signs of his discontent with our short relationship. The day after our first date in which we slept together, but did not have sex (I was on my period), was an obvious sign. I grabbed him playfully at work on the side, and he cringed and acted irritated by it. He later apologized at my register and said he was just hung over. What about the times he did not call me back or text me when he said he would, or text me rather than call me when declining an invitation to dinner. Why did his father suddenly tell him we could no longer have sex in his house? There were many signs of his ambivalence towards me, but I liked him.

 

Can Mikey and I ever be friends? We never started out as friends, only lovers. Men have an unspoken rule, that they can never be friends with a woman they find attractive or any woman for that matter since they always want to have sex with her. I can now relate to that saying. How can I be friends with someone who I want to make mad passionate love to?

 

When he left work yesterday, I saw him through the window of the store sitting on his BMX bike with a lit cigarette protruding from his mouth. He was wearing a t-shirt complete with skull and crossbones, and his aviator glasses. Why did this look get me so excited? He was a boy on a bike, riding home to his father’s house after only a week’s love affair. This love went against every ounce of reason, rationality, tradition, and common sense I had. Did this prove that women really are attracted to bad boys, defying all intellectual capacity? Was this just a case of a hurt ego, after all I wasn’t enough to keep him from longing for other women? It couldn’t be a case of love after only a week.

 

I now have decided to be friends with a man, before I sleep with him. I want to be attracted to his mind as well as his persona. Of course, this could end as well, but at least I will have something to talk to him about when it is over. Mikey and I have to suffer through uncomfortable silences, as we never had a strong foundation to start the relationship off with. We were never friends, and lacked similar interests. He liked to drink, smoke pot, and was an avid survivalist. I was having a mid-life crisis, trying to get healthy and find meaning in my life. We were mis-matched from the beginning, but boy was he sexy. I don’t regret the affair. We had good sex for a week, and it felt good. My libido is satisfied for the moment, and I hope my next affair will transcend the libido. Maybe Mikey, the bad boy, was needed at this moment in my life to make me feel young, appreciate sex again, and for arousing latent feelings in me again. He did just that, and I thank him for it.

Ramblings of a 47 year old woman

This blog deals with the ramblings of a 47 year old woman who is still trying to figure it all out. I have been single and dateless for 5 1/2 years, and recently relocated to a new town, got a new job, lost weight, and am ready for love and/ or lust. Questions: Can I still find love without compromising who I am? Can i get beyond the superficiality of looks, and appreciate a man for who he is? Will a man really love/want me at this age? How can I open myself up to love without getting hurt?