Archive | 10:00 am

Running the bases

30 Mar

Yesterday was a beautiful day for a baseball game.  The sun was shining.  The weather was just right.  The crowds were festive, and the O’s won in the 11th inning.  First game of the season is in the books. As is, probably, my last hook up with the Chess Player.

We spent the entire day together.  Met him at his apartment just after lunch, we walked to the stadium and spent the day drinking.  He didn’t want me to pay for anything because he’s a southern gentlemen, and that’s now how he rolls.  He’s charming and smart, I’ll give him that.  But when he grabbed my hand while we were sitting down, or he was gazing into my eyes, all I could think of was, “I’m so not where you are right now.” He beamed when we were buying beers and the dude behind the bar said we looked like a “nice young couple.”  Cute since there’s an 11 year age difference.  The Chess Player is too into it.  He talked about the future – how we would take me to football games in the fall, “if you decide to stay around,” he told me.  Uh…um…so not there with him.  Not even a tiny bit.

How does one person read signals which aren’t quite there?  What did he see to interpret there’s a future?

We didn’t watch much of the game because we were too busy making out in the stands.  I’m sure it was annoying to the people sitting next to us.  Had I been sitting next to a couple (not a couple, 2 people sitting together) who were making out I would have been rolling my eyes and whispering, “get a room” under my breath.

Oh.

Maybe he read my making out with him in public and letting him hold my hand as signs I’m more present than I actually am?  Yikes. My bad.  I didn’t mean for that too happen.

[Oh hey, is that you, sibling?  Because you can go now.  Tap out.  Is that your phone ringing?  ** BRRRRING BRRRRING**  I think it is.  You should probably get that call. ** BRRRRING BRRRRING**  It’s probably really important.  By the way, did you need me to bring something to dinner on Sunday? I may have said I was going to bring some veggies, but can’t remember.  Text me if you want me to bring something.  And also, I expect an Easter basket. ** BRRRRING BRRRRING** Go answer the phone.  Or at least look away.]

Perhaps he also interpreted my ending up naked in his bed at the end of the night as some kind of sign.  There was no boot knocking, no home run.  Thought about it, but decided it would send all kinds of mixed signals.  We did slide into 3rd base.  In text exchanges with #4, he’d said my talents were wasted on the Chess Player.  He, surprisingly, was more skilled than I assumed he would be.  That was pleasantly surprising.  It was fun.

And it wasn’t.

Not sure how to describe it.  There was something missing.  I did not feel present.  It wasn’t mechanical, and I don’t mind meaningless, but it was hollow if that makes sense.  My mind was elsewhere, with someone else.  Engaging with the Chess Player was difficult, the connection was off for me.  I’m not typically one who tends to be quiet in the bedroom, but I couldn’t get into the talking.  He was saying the right things, but I wasn’t there, so my silence made me feel more disengaged.  My focus seemed to be on finishing so we could wrap things up and I could go home.  Even in the throes of – well, you know – I kept thinking this whole thing would have been way more fun with Monsieur le Baguette.

I’d rather be with him.

Interestingly enough, had the hook up been with #4 instead, there wouldn’t have been an issue with him.  Perhaps it’s because we already have some sort of established connection and there are no illusions of what is/not between us.  We’ll find out when he comes back around in the next few weeks.

The Chess Player leaves today to visit his family, he’ll be gone for the weekend.  Hopefully, the distance will serve to cool things off.