Pulling a Mordecai

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I have a crush. Haven’t had one of those in awhile, so it’s been strange territory.

My crush, who I’ll call “V” for the sake of anonymity, is someone that was a long-time associate. We’d met through a mutual friend years ago, and stayed in contact sporadically. I was intrigued by V when we met, partially because of V’s heritage, and also marital status at the time. We were both divorced, and had experienced parallel troubles with our ex-spouses. It initiated our connection.

Fast forward ages later, and I felt the need to reconnect with V, since I was (and still am), seeking to improve on my current relationships and build new ones with more people of interest.

We had dinner, then went dancing. On the tipsy ride back to the restaurant parking lot (V drove to the dance spot), I wondered if it was wise to make space for V in my life. Though we had a good time out, despite fearing for my life a few times due to V’s suspected binge drinking that lead to driving under the influence, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to deal with whatever may be hidden beneath my new friend’s surface.

I decided to take a chance, and kindly brought up my concern for V’s drinking, which was previously mentioned to me by our mutual friend. V took it well, even admitted to it being a problem, and that it was being worked on. I was relieved.

We began spending more quality time together. Even went Goodwill hopping, where V picked out a lot of nice bargain pieces that suited me. Prior to that adventure, V wanted me to be there for a long-awaited tattoo cover-up appointment. The new tattoo came out looking grand. We had dinner afterwards.

I first felt my feelings of fancy for V during the tattoo job. Considering I was the only one present with her (sans tattoo artist), it felt like a big deal, an indicator that perhaps more than friendship was on the horizon.

V has been wanting to buy a house, and wanted me to go in on the deal. I toyed around with the thought, but realized it wouldn’t work out for the following reasons:

  1. I’m not interested in buying a home at this time in my life.
  2. I prefer living without a roommate (kids don’t count).
  3. I’m not ready to move, especially since I’ve only been at my current residence for less than two years.
  4. What if V’s mind changes once we’re all settled in our new home? I don’t want to be stuck with a possible foreclosing situation.
  5. If I’m to share space with anyone that’s not my child, I’d prefer someone that I’m in a committed relationship with.
  6. I can’t share space with someone I’m attracted to, physical or otherwise, that I’m not engaged in a committed relationship with. I tend to get territorial with those I’d like to court. I don’t need that type of aggravation.

I decided to tell V in person how I felt after my invitation for V to become my valentine was accepted. Maybe asking V to be my valentine was corny, but I wanted to make it clear that I have more than friendship on my mind. Plus, I thought it was a cute jester.

We had our Valentine’s Day dinner the night before the actual day, since V was scheduled to work the day of, and I didn’t want to chance having “too much” fun on a work night. We both decided on Red Lobster since raw oysters were calling our names. We had cheddar biscuits (of course) and a rum punch each. I paid for dinner, then we split into the frosty night.

The rum punch almost caused me to spill my guts to V, but I held them in. I also backed out of declaring my feelings, and going in for a kiss when it was drop-off time, after V surprised me with a thoughtful gift. I kicked myself in the ass for the rest of that night, including the next day.

I’d pulled a Mordecai! As many times as I’d wince whenever Mordo failed to tell Margaret how he felt, I should’ve known better.

It’d been eating at me for months to allow the “perfect moment” to happen as a bridge to let V know how I felt, but I kept clamming up. I decided that I had to tell V before the end of last week, so I did.

V invited me to drop by the job after I declared that I had something to give, along with something I wanted to discuss in private.

I had a little heart-patterned bag ( I know, cheesy!) with a mini oil diffuser and travel-sized hand lotion for my amore.

We sat in the store office uninterrupted, and I told V that I couldn’t share a home because of my more-than-a-friend notions. V understood, and returned my feelings.


Sort of.

We both like each other. BUT, we’re both busy single parents. I’m hoping things will lighten up once the weather does, so we can take things to another level. I’m not looking for marriage any time soon, but it would be nice to start something new with a wonderful person.

Even if V and I don’t end up as a couple, at least I got out of my comfort zone by telling the truth. That counts for something.

Cheers to facing my fears!


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