100 Cups Of Coffee: #23

23. Cozy Cafe. Redondo Beach, CA. Black coffee.

What if?

I’m still not quite sure how this guy found me on Instagram, Insta Greg. But one day I logged into Instagram to find that I had a direct message. I couldn’t believe this hip and gorgeous LA musician wanted to talk to me. Insert my second type, after ginger, musician. I had already had my go with a LA musician, so I was very wary of Insta Greg. But this was the first man who sought me out. I had been finding it hard to make connections with men in real life. Tinder was just too easy. Not that Instagram is real life, but it isn’t a dating app either.

But there was still Number One. Insta Greg had it all. Long soft blond hair. Comfy cuddles and an enthusiasm for life and me, just what I wanted. Enthusiasm for me. Finally. But he scared me. On our second date, which was an entire month after our first due to a car accident I was involved in when our first second date was scheduled, he said he asked if I wanted to be exclusive. On our second date. I told him I wasn’t ready because of the divorce. Really it was because of Number One’s hold on my mind, heart and body.

I never gave Insta Greg a real shot in the weeks that we were talking to each other. My mind truly wanted to, he seemingly had it all, but there was always a nagging doubt in the back of my mind and of course Number One.

One day I set out to understand that doubt and give in a real shot at the same time.

I drove down an hour from LA to visit him at his parent’s house where he was house sitting and working remotely for the weekend. The house was the perfect beach cottage on the cliffs complete with the most gorgeous and unreal view of the Pacific Ocean from the backyard. He was ready and excited when I arrived and immediately wanted to introduce me to his friends that very night. Our third date. I came down ready for this, or so I had though. But my heart was still torn and he could tell. He thought I was pensive because of the divorce and was always supportive about it. He is such a caring and gentle soul. But for me, I was mental drained of my marriage, it was Number One who had ahold of my heart now.

Number One and I had the physical connection I had always wanted. Number One ravished me. He laughed with me and joked with me. He showed me the LA I was dying to see, new restaurants, bars, pie shops, coffee shops and all the while I fell deeper, Number One held me at arm's length. That’s where Insta Greg came in. He picked up the slack that Number One didn’t want to give. I wanted it to be enough. For him to be enough.

I ended up having the most lovely day relaxing in the grass with Insta Greg. The ocean breeze softly lulled me to sleep all the while Insta Greg cuddled me close. Nap under the summer sun, truth chats about what he wanted out of our relationship and the respect to know that I needed time and space. Our afternoon turned into night. He let me sit alone staring out into the vastness of the ocean while the sun set.

It was then that I was ready to let him have all of me, even with my still lingering doubts. Only Number One had had me at this point. And those times with him I couldn’t ever let leave my brain. There was more passion than I’d ever felt in my entire life. But now I was here with Insta Greg, I was staying the night. It was then that I finally had my doubts confirmed, just as I made this decision to have sex with him. I tried to be prepared and he wasn’t.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask him.

Then the words I’d never thought I’d hear in my entire life came out of a grown ass thirty year old man’s mouth.

“I’ll just pull out.”

My face went blank. I was in complete shock. I just stared at him for what felt like forever, with my mouth gaping open. Doubt confirmed. I played the words over and over in my head. That couldn’t have come out of his mouth. What are we, in high school? Though I never even had a high school boy say those words to me. What I didn’t tell him was that I indeed had a condom in my purse, but at this point, I didn’t think he deserved it.

Politely declining the offer, of him “pulling out,” we still cuddled and I stay the night with him. He was a good cuddler and I love cuddling. In the morning, he jumped out of bed an hour before my alarm was due to go off. I had work that day. My sleepy brain thought maybe he was making me coffee or breakfast or both. So when he came back to bed a few minutes later, I thought oh just coffee. I’ll take that!

A not so sleepy hour passed and I drug myself out of bed to shower, all the while he slept soundly. When the time came to kiss me goodbye once I was ready for work, he shied away because of my red lipstick. Immediately a Dashboard lyric popped into my head “so kiss me hard, cause this will be the last time that I’ll let you.” And it was. The decision to never see him again was completely driven home when he told me about nearby coffee shop I could stop at on my hour drive to work, instead of waking up to make me some coffee, like I had thought.
Driving away from his house, it fading into my rearview mirror, I felt at peace, finally. I passed by a cute little cafe, of my own discovery, did an illegal u-turn and had a solo morning coffee and french toast, basking in the knowledge that I had grown more self-aware and confident in the decisions I was making for myself and my own happiness. My red lipstick stained the glass instead of his lips.

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