Hello friends! Do I even have to apologize at this point? I feel like anyone and everyone who is bothering to read this blog knows by now that my attempts to blog with any form of regularity have pretty much completely ceased at this point. Sorry guys! However, this week I will be bringing you the best of the best, what I promised to give you from the very beginning. The truth. The whole truth. And nothing but the truth. All the juicy details, with just enough changed to protect my identity. (Yes, that was overdramatic, but I’ll just be honest, putting a phrase like “protect my identity” in my secret internet blog makes me feel like a badass…. or a superhero. Or a superheroic badass. You get the point.)
And now, the real reason I’ve been such a shitty blogger of late: I fell in love.
I know, I know. I wasn’t expecting it either. Even seeing the words on my screen right now seems kind of odd. I haven’t said it enough yet, haven’t gotten used to reacquainting myself with the big “L” word. I still can’t believe that I, the girl who said she wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship, is now in a fairly serious one. Who would have thought.
His name, at least for the purposes of this blog, is…. Link. (Insert Zelda joke here.) I know its a little strange, but I think its cute. It suits him. But I’m a little biased. I’m kind of crazy about him.
Although that wasn’t always the case. I mean, I can’t deny, when I first met Link the sparks were almost instantaneous. I immediately found him attractive, he immediately found me attractive (or so he says), but even with the ridiculous adorableness of our meet cute (he commented on a book I was reading and struck up a conversation with me from there and ended up drawing me a little doodle which he gave to me before our conversation ended) I still wasn’t completely sold on him. I got a strange vibe from him… a strangely…. serious vibe. It wasn’t that I was getting a psycho or serial-killer-y reading off this guy… its just that I couldn’t help but think he was looking for a relationship, with a capital “R”, something worthy of writing home about, something that skipped over the silly little unlabeled fooling around and flirtations I thought I was looking for. So, after exchanging numbers with him and sending a few flirty texts back and forth, my conscience got the better of me. I didn’t want to lead him on. So I told him. I gave him The Speech.
“The Speech” or at least my version of it is a delicate thing. Its the gentlest of letdowns, the kindest of rejections, the well-meaning reminder that I’m not looking to be anybody’s one and only. I had practiced it on at least four guys since my break up and I was pretty sure I had it down to an art form at this point. I knew all the perfect turns of phrase, all the nicest, most flattering ways of saying, “You’re great, I just don’t want to be your girlfriend.” I really thought there was no way I could ever be anything more to this guy than a passing flirtation.
To his credit, he took it well, even thanked me for being honest with him. And that might have been the end of it honestly. We might have stopped talking there. I might have missed out. But he didn’t give up. We kept talking. And then we started hanging out. And then there came… The Kiss.
We were taking a walk and it was raining a little. Not a lot, just occasionally misting down a shower of drops. It was cold, and windy, and I was shivering, and laughing to cover the fact that I was shivering. It was one of the very first times we were alone together… no friends to drive home the fact that this was NOT A DATE, and I was starting to feel that difference. Almost immediately he had grabbed my hand, and I hadn’t resisted… it felt strangely natural. We were having fun, talking easily, although I, in true Cassie form, had started babbling on nervously the second his palm touched mine. But he didn’t seem to mind. He was smiling at me in a way I couldn’t quite describe, that was making my insides feel like my stomach was lined with live wires. We ducked into an alleyway to get away from the wind so he could smoke, and he lit up a cigarette (after asking if that was okay, which I found endearing) and then, when he saw I was shivering, pulled me into his arms to warm me up. He had been trying to touch me all night, and I had known it, and felt powerful because of it, and once he did… well. It was nice. More than nice. Kind of phenomenal actually. I hadn’t been held like that in a long time. My heart started pounding.
The wind was tossing my hair around and I was laughing as I tried to keep it out of my eyes. I apologized for it being so crazy– my hair frizzes and curls in damp weather, and he smiled and shook his head. “Its cute.” He said, “Its curling right here-” he kissed my forehead, “-and here,” he said, kissing the top of my head. I melted. Not literally of course, but it felt that way. It felt like something inside of my heart unfroze in a rush and I was suddenly left standing there in a puddle of feelings and crap.
And then he leaned in for the kiss and I said the dumbest thing anyone has ever said in the history of the universe. “Wait. I’m out of practice. I might be bad at it.” And then I blushed, because I instantly realized that was the stupidest thing I could have possibly said.
He shook his head.
And then he kissed me.
And the second his lips touched mine, I thought, “If this is a dream, this is where I’ll wake up.” But I didn’t wake up.
Instead I did something somehow worse. I started to giggle. I have no earthly idea why. I’m far from being some sage old woman, but I’m nineteen-fucking-years-old. I’m not a thirteen year old girl at a slumber party. I didn’t even know I knew HOW to giggle anymore. Sexy, grown up women don’t giggle. I feel like if you giggle, you have to hand in your woman card and go back to braiding your hair and listening to the Jonas Brothers.
But giggle I did.
I felt him start to smile through the kiss and I instantly broke away, mortified at myself and my life and how I had managed to fuck up a perfect, perfect moment. I hid my face in his shoulder and said the only thing I knew to say in that moment. “I’m sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry!”
He laughed. Gently. Then he whispered, “Hey.” close to my ear.
I looked up at him. “Yeah-?” I said back.
And then he tilted my chin up and kissed me again.
And this time I didn’t giggle.
I just kissed him back.
And it was kind of perfect.
And after I pulled away, I saw the rain around us had turned to snow… falling softly down to the ground, illuminated by the glow of the street lamps.
I. Fucking. Know.
How. Does. That. Even. Happen.
Of course, I didn’t say this, but I already knew I was falling for him then to a point, even though I barely knew how to admit it to myself. Its hard to explain the way I feel about him. Its not just that I can say just about anything to him, that he makes me feel good and safe and that he makes me laugh like crazy and feel safe and happy all the time, its that… when I’m with him, I feel like… I’m doing something right. Like I’m right where I’m supposed to be. When I’m with him… I feel like I’m…. home.
I don’t know what that means. But. I just…. I have a good feeling about this one guys. A really good feeling.
And now comes the the real question: how’s the sex. I know what all you smut-seeking internet people are thinking. And here’s your answer: we haven’t had it yet. But more on that in another blog post.
(Warning: its about to get mildly smutty and fairly R-rated. If thats not your cup of tea, I understand, and see you next time my chaste blogger friends! :))
Here’s the good stuff: he’s hot as fuck to me, and sexy does not even begin to sum up this man. He’s older, and more experienced, and he puts it to good use everytime we’re together. We’re talking some next-level pleasure here. When he kisses me it feels like I’m transported to some other dimension and my skin flashes hot and cold and when he kisses down my neck, pulling off my shirt, kissing along the edges of my bra before whipping it off (one handed by the way) to suck my nipple into his mouth its…. well its HOLY SHIT and FUCK YES and OH BABY and all the rest. Not to mention, the stuff this kid does with his fingers…. rubbing me and finally when I’m panting for him, slipping his fingers into me and finger fucking me until I see stars.
He is by far the sexiest guy I’ve ever been with. And its kind of awesome. Its been a long time since I’ve looked forward to getting to kiss someone next, and its been longer still since I’ve seen someone, just seen them, and seen them smile at me from across the room when they first see me and simultaneously just wanted to tell them I love them in every language known to man and fuck their brains out. I’m so happy. He’s one of my best friends, he’s sweet, respectful, funny, driven, sexy, easy to be with, everything I could ever want and more.
He’s far from perfect, but he’s perfect for me, and I’m so so so so obnoxiously happy. I can’t stop smiling, I look like a fucking idiot, and I don’t care at all.
Of course, my life has been more than meeting Link, but for now I think this blog post is ridiculously long enough. Please like and comment if you enjoyed it, and new people following my blog make me happier than just about anything (minus the fantastic hardcore make out sessions). Sorry again for my absence from the blogosphere, but hopefully this tell-all post made up for it!
I’ll be back soon with new funny tales of girlfriendhood, bedroom distasters, friendship, and the utter confusion of being nineteen and in love. Thanks for reading lovelies!
xxx – Cassie