wow, where to begin. I just have this need to write and do not have anyone specific to write to. What if I wrote to Steve? He would use my rants as another way to make it seem as though I am infatuated with him and the feelings are not returned. That sounds like a school girl crush as I write it. It wasn't, it isn't. It is more of a masochistic approach to my own happiness. Steve is the nemesis of my soul. He wrote in his profile many years ago everything I would want a man to write. He was in the Delta Force, so macho, so manly, so dangerous. So my type. He didn't like people that littered. He didn't define the "n" word from a specific color, but from how a person behaves. He loved and adored his children. So manly, so masculine, yet there was a catch that tugged even more at the female heart. He had half of his face shot off, while being this hard core soldier for our country. So, half his face was handsome, the other half, when I saw it the first time in person, literally took my breath away. They took out a rib to make a cheek bone. His eye stayed open, even when he would sleep. When we were out in public, people would stare. At first I was very conscience about this, later, I didn't notice. He reeled me in quick. I was easy though. Just out of a marriage, I mean JUST. Only a few months. Did I mention that he had a kick ass body??? Hard core, not too muscular, just right, beautiful! Anyways, I was easy. Just out of a marriage that ended with my ex-husband cheating on me, exactly how I pictured it ending, before we even married. Men can be so predictable. Especially when you know their character before you marry them. Yes, I was easy. I needed re-assurance. Re-assurance that I was still beautiful, still sexy, still worthy. And here I had this sexy, macho, to the tee if I had to custom order him myself, with a physical wound that would tug at any woman's heart, as I am sure he used before and after me. I was easy. But, it felt so damn good! This man, oh my gosh this man, he knew women. He knew what they wanted, what make us tick. He knew what I needed before I did. This man. I may give him more credit than he really deserves, but I think not. I think he is very trained in the military and he has used that in other parts of his life and has trained himself in the other aspects, to give what we need, to make us suffer. Had I not been in a vulnerable place, had I been my younger self, I would have given him a run for his money, but I wasn't, I was my older, broken self, and he saw me coming. Don't get me wrong, I do not feel like this mans victim, I do not feel like he wronged me, if anything I thank him for a wonderful ride. Physically, mentally, wonderful ride. You know how when you are left at the house of someone you are just dating, you look around. You want to know more about this person. I found tapes. I asked him about these tapes and he was very forthright. They were sex tapes, but more like how to ultimately please a woman sex tapes. Let me tell you, he was a good study. I do not know about you, but I appreciate a man that will go that extra step and is curious enough to take that extra knowledge on how to please a woman. I think to my naivete self, it says that kind of man is not completely self centered. Or does it mean that that man wants to fulfill his ego in being the ultimate lover, so he is a quick study with his books or tapes? He had a little trick with his hands, mostly his right one that I have heard is now blown off in the line of duty, but anyways, this trick was sensational, exhilarating, but in the same, too much. It was one of those deals that makes you sooooooooo titillated, on the verge, but way too much, way too fast, way too... Never completely does the trick, but enough to make you stop whatever you are doing, thinking, saying. Enough to make you a fool of pre-orgasmic, body, mind and soul pourith over, fool, fool, fool. Yes, I was putty in his hands, literally. But, it never did the trick, however, that ride, oh that ride.
You know, there were warning signs. I believe it was the first night I was at his house. His (he called ex-girlfriend) was looking in the windows at us making out on his couch, she finally knocked at his door, trying to get a look at me past him, yelling out "hi" and fussing at him. He of course put it off as her being an obsessed "ex" that he was now friends with and had agreed to watch her cats while she was out of town and she came back early. I am not stupid, I am a beautiful, intelligent woman and have been for years, even before I was a "woman". But I did what a lot of us do, I forwent that little voice inside my head that said "run girl, run", that damn smart voice that I have heard so many times and would have been so much better off had I listened all those times. Instead of listening to that incredibly smart voice, I stayed and let him know my slight distrust of the bullshit he was handing me, but also acted like that stupid girl, the "oh, okay, she must be an crazy ex, you poor thing" girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But you know what, I got what I wanted that night. I got a man, a good looking (half his face), macho, masculine, hot as fuck body, self taught clitoris navigator, excellent masseuse, warm, not too pushy, but pushy enough, man that made me feel sexy, made me feel wanted, made me feel wild and unleashed for the time spent with him kind of man. I got what I wanted. It was exhilarating. It was warm, inviting, luscious, but the worst part of it, it felt like home. That sounds strange, even to me. What I mean is, it felt like that is where I was suppose to be, that was who I was suppose to be with. Ugh, why?!????? This has plagued me for years, years! I have been married for the past 8 miserable fucking years ( a whole other story), and it has plagued me since the last day I saw Steve. No, that's a lie. It has plagued me since the first day I was with Steve. The first fucking day. Actually not even the first whole day, the first moments. Ugh, I hate hearing myself say that!!!!!!!!!!!!! You have no idea how much I hate hearing myself say that, no idea!!! But, it's true. I got to his house, I got out of my car, I was on the phone with him, he came out to the garage, we hung up, I had to pee sooooooo bad, for like the past hour (it was a 2.5 hour drive), I was smiling, he was smiling, he came closer, I was stunned at the gravity of his face (the half that was shot off), I must have hesitated and he asked if I was okay, he pointed to his face and asked "is it this", I said "no, of course not, I just really have to use the bathroom", but it was his face, the pictures did not show it the way it looks in person, not nearly. I went into the bathroom, and looked in the mirror and asked myself "what the hell am I doing here". I came out, he had a stuffed monkey that was holding some candy for me as a little gift. Ever since then and because he often made comments like, "when monkeys fly", I called him my monkey man. He later forgot why, thinking I was making jokes about his hairiness, which I wasn't (he has a wonderful hairy chest and a full head of black hair, love it!). Anyways, he gave me the monkey and then we were off to dinner. I got in his jeep, we were pulling out of his driveway and he put his hand on my leg, near my knee. All of a sudden, this calmness ran through my body, through every last cell and I felt, not heard, but felt a voice say, "this is where you are suppose to be". Hokey sounding, I know. But I had NEVER experienced anything like it before or since. I often felt a similar feeling with him, but overwhelmingly just that once. We didn't have a lot of time together. We lived 2.5 hours apart and I only saw him on the weekends, sometimes every other weekend. I was a mother of two small children and would only go to where he lived on the weekends I did not have my children. He never came to my house. I didn't mind. Where he lived was like a vacation spot. Just down the block was a beautiful lake that we would canoe on and the area was beautiful. I thought he was beautiful. I thought his green/hazel eyes were beautiful, even the one that would not shut all the way due to his injuries. I thought his nose that was partly messed up, which was only visible from the side, was beautiful. I thought his body was beautiful, because it actually is, so so so beautiful. His arms, oh my gosh his arms! So strong, so embracing, so safe feeling. There is something to be said, being with a man in public or private that makes you feel so safe, like no one can get to you, no one can hurt you. No one, but him of course. We had some time together. We talked a lot on the phone. He listened to me when I described the crucifix that I wanted, part silver, part gold. He made me a large Easter basket, in it a golden egg, which of course had my crucifix in it. He was romantic, he was caring, he was never able to be alone with me for too long. He always had to have his son, which of course his son lived with him, so that was understandable, but he also had to have his friends close by. I did not begrudge his son, but sometimes wished that we had more alone time since I only got to see him every other weekend and that was my away time from my own parental obligations. He had a good son. His son at the time was 8 years old. He would test the boundaries, see how far he could push at times, but not many, just typical kid stuff. I often felt like Steve was too rough on him, making him do push ups in the parking lot for not listening or obeying his father. He also spanked him for something I feel young boys are not able to control, or rather spanked him for lying about it, but it was a rough situation. Being a mother, and I know that sometimes mothers can be more nurturing than fathers, I felt like he could have been more understanding, but he did his best. He was undoubtedly a loving father. He loved his son and his older two children that were away with all of his heart and soul. He was a good father. Often times I felt like his son did not take me seriously, but more of like "another woman dad has brought home, lets see how long this one lasts" type of deal. I got to meet his grandparents too. Oh my gosh how I adored them, especially his grandmother, she was an exceptional woman, very loving. Even though I got to meet them and be around his son and his friends, I did feel like my time would be up soon and that was how he did things. Steve was passionate, but fickle. His friend described him as "moody" and she did not know how his ex-wife handled it for so long. Boy if that is not a red flag, what is! There were many, but still, I wanted to be with him. The story goes on for quite some time, with strange and crazy twists and turns that many wouldn't even believe. Maybe I will save that for a part 2 and part 3 of the Steven Dodos saga. I am tired for now and got the writing bug out of my system for tonight. Funny, when I started I had no idea what I would write about. Even after all this time, he is still on my mind...
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