A woman’s intuition

I knew after our first exchange of messages that you were going to break my heart. I knew you’d hook me and that it was going to end in tears. How did I know? If only there was a way for a woman’s intuition to be packaged and sold...There were no red flags, the conversation was smooth, you asked questions, there was chemistry. How did I pick up on the subtleties that something wasn’t right?

As I walked towards you sitting on the bench, I took a deep breath in, instinctively knowing this was going to be one of the best dates I’ve ever had. The way you nonchalantly hung your foot over your knee and glanced down at your phone, it made me feel high school butterflies. I haven’t felt them in years, and that was all it took! 

You glanced up as I approached and got up without rushing, not a nerve in sight, and walked calmly towards me. “Hi. How are you? Under my mask I’m smiling, by the way”. I could hear it as you spoke, I could see it in your gorgeous green eyes. I was too. 

We walked along the rocky pier and sat down on some rocks that placed us close together, but not close enough. I fought the urge to slip my arms around your waist and pull you towards me. As we looked out to the sea and the setting sun behind the city, my favourite dusty pink haze was beginning to form on the horizon. “It’s funny,” I said, as we took off our masks and you revealed that handsome, bearded, olive face (of course so much better in person). “I told my sister earlier that I was meeting a guy from Tinder at the beach at sunset and we laughed at how this pandemic propels us to date 4 on date 1.” You smiled and winked and I melted. Part of me wanted to get up and leave at that very moment. I was terrified at the thought of what was coming, yet already completely addicted to you. 

We clinked our bottles, “Here’s to meeting strangers at the beach for beers”.

It’s such an odd phenomenon to meet a new person and instantly connect with them. I know it happens, but really, how does it happen?? Two people from different cultures, finding shared humour, finishing sentences, subtle pauses when you say out loud what the other is clearly thinking. I couldn’t take my eyes off your pillow lips and perfect white teeth. The way you gently threw your head back as you laughed made my stomach flip. I wanted to swallow you up whole! Those long, dark eyelashes...What must it feel like to be as quietly self-confident as you are, but with an ego so throughly in check? To glide through life drawing people in. What’s that personality type? The Campaigner. Oh my Lord, that smile! You were just so fucking cool. 

The next three hours were dreamlike. We danced around each other as we wandered the streets, laughing - so much laughing! - hinting, flirting, fire touches every now and then. We joked about the pandemic forcing us to drink on park benches, making us feel like rebellious teenagers stealing precious time together in a world of rules and forbidden love. Eventually we settled in a square, sat on a bench and you leaned in close. I was finally going to taste those pillow lips...

To say I hadn’t experienced a perfect first kiss before you is not an exaggeration. With every gentle move I felt lightning travel from my mouth to my toes. The pace quickened slightly, the urgency increased, social distancing was officially out the window. 

“We absolutely cannot go back to mine. My flat is a fucking tip, I was not expecting this”, I giggled as I dragged you directly towards my flat. You grabbed me and pulled me into a doorway. We were acting like those teenagers again with our hands gliding everywhere. Our breaths short, lips on lips, lips on necks.

The instant connection translated to bed. I knew it would, just like I knew how this night would end. To be able to communicate freely to someone new, have them listen and understand you is...magic. But my favourite thing was how we laughed! So much laughter and humour amongst all the passion. It was just so much fun. My face hurt from smiling. 

And then we lay in comfortable silence next to each other, staring up at the ceiling. No contrived hugging, not awkward spooning, just pure, intimate ease. Like we’d done this a million times before. But soon...“I have to go...”, curfew was approaching. 

We dressed in silence. The moment I’d been dreading since we sent our first few messages had arrived. The kiss at my door was achingly tender, I felt like I was going to cry. You cupped my left cheek with your right hand, your pillow lips lingered three seconds longer than was needed. “I’ll text you”, you said but we both knew you wouldn’t. 

The second you left the stomach churn started. I took two sleeping pills just to get through the night. 

In the morning I immediately got to work with the new information I had, let my gut lead the way to get to the bottom of the gnawing. 

It didn’t take long, the world we live in now is scary. 

Your full name...

Your LinkedIn...

Your Facebook...

Your profile picture...

Her name...

Her Instagram...

....You’re married. 

I’m a mess.