Xanax, in human form

I have a friend from my hometown... known him all my life, basically.  Kindergarten up... and we were friendly in school, never really super close- ran in different circles- but would always stop to say hi and "howsyourmomandthem" when we'd see each other when i was working there well after graduation.  Facebook close- I'd watch his kids growing up in pictures and he did the same with me.

Well.  He came to town...

god, he was like xanax and cold sweet tea and grandma's front porch all rolled up into the fattest blunt imaginable.  I left him feeling better than I've felt in months.  No guilt- nothing was done to feel guilty about. I even fucking smiled. 

Now, dear reader,  I have to be completely honest with you... even when I try to lie to myself.. I got excited when he asked me to come out.  Not like,  this is an old friend that wants to catch up kind of way.

You should know this... He's smart and funny and has these incredibly sexy smile lines at the corners of his eyes.  And he's kind,  caring,  knight in shining armor rescue the fair maiden kind of chivalrous. I kinda lost my breath for a minute. And, as if that's not enough,  he's a great dad.... let me just fall to my knees and show my appreciation right the fuck now, right?

Side note, did you know that on the hotness scale,  similarly minded women give "great dads" an automatic 3 point boost?  Guys like Ryan Reynolds break the scale, of course... but... this guy?  hmmm.... out of my league even before the point bonus.

So anyway... he's a friend.  Out of my league.. chatting with me about everything and nothing.  He relaxes me.  Calms the chaos. But... adds his own little bit of chaos. Because this friend... he's all those things that make me wish I weren't broken.  Those things that make me wish I were ready to date.  And kind of... wish he would want to rescue me so I could rescue him too.

but...

none of that is even relevant because I'm too broken and he's just two steps ahead of me in this process and.. he's more than I deserve.

So I'll bask in the xanax/ sweet tea/front porch wonderful that is my friend until he finds someone more deserving of him.

y'all, I smiled...
C.D.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hallmark movies

I have a confession... I love watching cheesy Hallmark and princess movies.  Extra credit if it's a Hallmark princess movie.  They're formulaic, they're poorly written, they recycle their cast, plots, and... well... everything.  But maybe that's the appeal. Silly romances aren't realistic, so it's a form of escapism on my part. Their recycled *everything* make them predictable and soothing. Do I expect a guy to sweep me off my feet in real life?  Well..  maybe...? It's hard to turn off the "girl brain." But the rest of me just wants someone to hold me and care about me and be vulnerable with me.  And someone who sticks around when I'm not at my best.  I dunno... Girl brain is still a thing, so the silly romance stuff still affects me. I wouldn't call the romance movies "setting unrealistic expectations" because I know they're unrealistic in the first place. But some aspects of them could be nice. Maybe if we take time to see o...
Read more

New Boots

There is no joy greater than a little boy's upon donning his first pair of real cowboy boots. Even if he is not a) a Texan, b) a farmer's child, c) an equestrian's child, or d) the son of anyone else who actually wears boots for work or play. It's just this instinct. Boots aren't like sneakers or sandals or those fantastic learning to walk shoes that my older girls wore out (with the completely flexible grippy soles and the soft leather uppers). Boots are substance. Boots are adult.  Boots make noise! For this reason, every boy needs a pair of cowboy boots sometime around the time he begins to walk. Nothing is more satisfying to a tank of a child than the clomp clomp of a pair of brown leather Justin boots. To the soundtrack of squeals of approving laughter from his mom, step mom (me, of course, and...in case you're wondering...yes I squeal, ain't no shame), and favorite big sister, our little guy experienced his first pair of real cowboy boots last night...
Read more

I had this client

 He was tall, dark, kind of thick and muscular... big strong rough craftsman's hands, deep rich voice,  thick southern accent. *swoon* He looked about 10-15 years past being a carpenter from a romance novel. And he,  without fail,  called me by a pet name... Darlin', Sugar, Sweetheart. He made me melt every blame time he walked into the office,  called,  or texted me (first client I EVER gave my cell number) .  I had a MAJOR crush on him and the lady that was an admin there and who had known the client for years and years said that he lit up around me and had never been like that before (seriously though,  how many people light up when they get their taxes done? ).  Co-worker admin would always say that he had as major crush on me. There was one time when I actually considered acting on it.  The stage was set.  I needed an estimate on some water damage in my home.  I was all alone at home.  He drives up and... the god...
Read more