When we finally worked into our schedules to go out on our first date. We met outside his apartment building. He wore a blue button down shirt and jeans, smelled sweeter than a plate of yams with extra syrup, and I couldn't stop kool-aid smiling. We left in his car and took "the long way" to the resturant.
We had plenty to talk about, we giggled and walked along Long Beach Pier, all was Love. We got back to my car and he gave me sweetest kisses I've ever known. I was smitten.
Our second and third dates all followed suite. He became my main frame. Every weekend he and I had something planned. We were on our way somewhere.
Then finally one night he came over, We watched DVD's , we laughed at my daughter (yes I even let him met my Baby), I cooked (Jumbalaya, and spicy chicken...my I'm trying to get some meal), and once My was asleep, he and I began kissing. He rubbed his smooth hands all over and me and eventually he had me hummmmmming, bitting my own lips, and popping my toes. I mean I was sucking my thumb with just my panties on the next morning.
A few more timeless weekend dates later he tells me that he has to move all the way to San Fransissyco.
For the first weeks it was cool. I saw him basically every weekend so it was as if he hadn't went anywhere.
Then we stopped talking regularly.
Then we stopped seeing each other regularly.
Now we haven't seen each other in two months.
He didn't even call me on Mother's day.
Two days ago I call him on his cell and come to find out he's been in Cali since Thursday and has not called me. As a matter of fact he's been in cali since thurday, has not called me and could possibly be planning to stay in southern Cali.
I don't even get a telephone call. I'm hurt. I'm thru wit it.
I'm going to become a hermit.