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By the time the date ended, I was pretty convinced that I am a captivating princess witch who can fly, and who should expect nothing less than this level of sensuality and romance. But today, I had that ‘cry in the car’ kind of day, and each of my friends and siblings have done their patient duty of listening to me prattle this already month, and now it’s your turn, dear readers. He serenaded me in candlelight, a song he’d written on his guitar. I love the way, during this single phase in my life, I am collecting so many experiences and memories as I date different men. I promise, I’ll get it out of my system so we can get back to interesting and fun things tomorrow. But one day we chanced to be at a show together and I met a bunch of his friends. His head was back, and he was half-grinning and looking at me as if he’d never seen me before in his life. The rest of the scene faded out and I was visually, olfactorily and physically fixated on his undomesticated presence. We chatted about the possibility of our death by airplane crash over sparkling water. He snapped about a hundred pictures of me on my phone with the airplane against an orange-pink sky. I now have the souvenirs of this experience, great photos that he later that evening, spent some time cropping and filtering to just how he liked them.
And he has other lovely qualities: he’s fetching, he’s passionate for life, and he’s great with his dog. A little background on how my nicknames for him evolved: ‘The Centaur’ was coined by a mutual friend one night, after this undomesticated man-person had stomped around at a party in only cowboy boots and sparkly spandex. He’s not looking for anything committed or serious. Plus, he’d been a legitimate pilot for twenty years. First, he performed what appeared to be a quite serious safety inspection of the very sexy airplane he’d restored to mint condition over a decade with his dad and best friends. It’s a tough world out there, and if there’s something that brings you comfort and hurts no one, by all means, you do You! He popped up beside me and we had fun like we’d never had before. (I’d show the pics to you, but then I’d have to kill you :-))We took off and he showed off his skills for a while. As I observed him in his element, I felt enchanted. Later, I went up to the front of the crowd to enjoy the last band. He said something to me along the lines of “My friend wanted to know who I was flirting with and I was like: ‘Oh, that’s just Mama Bear’ and she was like, ‘THAT’S Mama Bear? Driving to the small airport, we conversed about passionate living and friendship. His favorite, he edited “for your grandchildren” he said.It’s a good thing that I have a choice over how I spend my time, and that I am lucky enough to have vacation time and good friends and family to plan things with. Then, I just started to feel like it was all pointless. Some kind of fluffy wildflowers along the path were sending seed puffs waving in the wind and flying up into the sun. The words came to my mind, “All we have is Presence,” meaning, the only thing that matters is right now. I’d love to take him on a bunch of weekend trips and a road trip out west. I’ll explain plenty more about him in future posts. Over text messages, I awkwardly informed him that he was a true rebound. On the other hand, I’ve always handled this kind of planning, and I don’t want to interact with the ex any more than I have to.What’s the point of having fun if families can break up, people get old and die, and everything can go to hell? The weather was just about exactly 80 degrees, with light streaks of clouds and no humidity. Suddenly the pressure to create the perfect experiences when Tim and I are together lightened, and I realized that the elegance of every little moment matters so much more. My experience on this walk made me want to just hang out with Tim, just let go of any idea that I need to be ultra-fun. I would love to read comments – have you had any good single mama adventures with your kids? Single mom, parents need care, and I’m still trying to achieve in my career, make a contribution to this world, and parent my pre-teen single. All you need to know for the purpose of this tale is, we first met when we randomly ran into each other twice in two weeks, and then we had one great date. On one fateful Friday, I knew I wanted to see Wild Animal Man again, so I texted to ask him for just that. I hastily decided to just call his dad and fill him in.
That quality certainly keeps my walls up, which is kinda just the way I want it right now. I decided it was time and told him about how we call him the Centaur. “I like it,” he said with a grin as the band started to play and we began to dance again. ‘Wild Animal Man’ came from another friend who exclaimed that he was a wild animal when I recounted to her how he’d curled up one weeknight right on my front porch and fell asleep, snoring like an bear, feet sticking eighteen inches off the porch furniture. I like it so much I almost want to trade out the name Molly Undercover for it! When The Centaur moves on, as I’m sure he will sooner or later, I’ve decided I get to keep this nickname. He’s an artist, poet and musician with a confident swagger, broad shoulders, and green-blue-brown eyes.