Chapter 4: Rocker Chick

Mr. Grey sat his phone down next to the bed while I started to gather my yard sale of clothes from around the room.  I was trying to play it cool; even though I was totally taken back by the revelation of his date with another woman the next day.  I felt betrayed.  How could he want to be with someone else after the night we just had?  Why does he tell me?

I knew the answers to all of these questions.  He tells me because he wants me to know.  On one hand, he doesn’t want to keep things from me because he wants to be honest and transparent.  On the other hand, he is following the established rules we agreed on as part of the Rules of Engagement; Date multiple people at once. 

In theory, I thought I was signing up for my own personal version of The Bachelorette.  However, in reality, I was being confronted by mixed emotions.  I was used to exclusive relationships; so much so, that men would insist that I become relationship material within a few short months.  This pattern is what led to me to committing to “Dating in the Grey”, a philosophy where you commit to no commitment for six months while you date multiple people.  Even though I had been on two dates with two different men, I was still jealous of Mr. Grey’s upcoming introduction to Rocker Chick. 

Once I was dressed and somewhat put together, I headed for the door with a naked Mr. Grey following me.  A quick goodbye kiss before I stepped through the doorway, into the black of night to find my car.  As I was driving down the deserted highway, I wondered how I got myself into this predicament.  Was this healthy?  Or was I further damaging my once broken heart?   Each time I tried to come to an ultimate realization, I had no answers.  I just kept telling myself that I didn’t have to decide right now.  I had 6 months and I was going to wait til then to make a decision. 

As the morning sun shined through my bedroom window, a feeling of excitement and dread creeped over my heart. 

On one hand, I was excited that I was experiencing so many big feelings; some I haven’t experienced in a long time. On the other hand, some of the big feelings were not positive, happy feelings but rather old hurts coming to the surface. In my previous relationships, I never was aware of the philandering of my potential partner.  While the honesty provided some sort of comfort in truth, it also created feelings of jealousy and a fear of missing out.  As I reluctantly got out of bed in order to start my day, I realized that my mind was going to occupied with Mr. Grey’s upcoming rendezvous with Rocker Chick all day.  I tried my best to distract myself; I went to the gym and lifted heavy weights to get out my frustration.  I made plans with my girlfriend to play golf later that afternoon. But as the day turned into night and the arrival of the planned date  approached, I felt anxious.  My heart was in my throat and I kept watching the clock; wondering how long she would be there and if she would spend the night. 

Mr. Grey shared with me that his invitation included tequila and a trip to the hot tub.  I thought it was odd for a first introduction and knew that I would never be so eager to jump into a hot tub with a stranger.  But there were a lot of differences between me and the other women that he was dating.  Mr. Grey didn’t try to bed me on our first date.  After all, we met for a short time at a bar near my house while he was driving home from work.  I had another engagement so I only had a hour to say hello before moving onto my next destination.  Even our second and third dates were pretty tame in comparison to our current dynamic.  He gave me no inclination that we wanted to sleep with me or lure me to his home.  He introduced me to his friends before he introduced me to his bed.  It wasn’t until I told him that I didn’t want a relationship that he opened up about his dating practices.  I often wonder what would have happened if I wouldn’t have put the brakes on the traditional path we were initially following.  I wonder if my reluctance is what fueled his change in relationship direction.  And then my thoughts turn to me. Why am I so desperately afraid of commitment?  

I have had many suitors that have volunteered to be my one and only. 

Many of them were smart, accomplished, attractive, and completely adored me. 

But I was never able to settle into the comfort of a relationship after my divorce. 

 I would pretend for a few months but I would constantly be asking myself “is this it for me?  Is he the One?  The answer was always no and I felt smothered, caged in and like life was coming to an end.  So after a few short months, I would escape like a prisoner breaking out of jail.  My exit strategy would be a short goodbye and a frantic sprint towards the door.  Yet, as I stare at the ceiling and wonder about the comings and goings of Mr. Grey and his current flavor of the night, I realize that I am not trying to escape. I already did when I told Mr. Grey I didn’t want a relationship.  Instead, I am treading in uncharted territory that feels dangerous and exciting.  It breaks all the barriers that I once thought were essential to the dating rulebook.  And in all honesty, I didn’t know how to feel about it.  On one hand, I felt that I deserved better.  I should want a man who only has eyes for me.  But on the other hand, the thought of a “one and only” made me want to barf and swallow.  

I knew what I had to do.  I needed to diversify my dating pool.  I needed to take my focus off of Mr. Grey and divide my attention across a number of suitors so that my heart would not be entirely his. So I made my way back to my stagnant yet still existent dating app and I started to reluctantly swipe.  

A short “ping” awakened me from my dating pool search.  It was my phone.  I checked to see who was texting me at this odd hour.  It was Mr. Grey.  

“You awake?” He texted. 

“Yes” I wrote back. 

In that moment, I felt like I had won, as if I was in an invisible fight with an attacker and my hand was raised in victory.  He may have spent time with another woman, but he wanted to talk to me at the end of the night.  I know that I shouldn’t settle for such crumbs but I liked the taste of these crumbs.  I liked the fight I was in for his attention.  It felt exhilarating and infuriating; two feelings that are not often paired together.  

“How did it go?” I asked, not knowing if I really wanted the answer.

“It was good.  She came over and we went in the hot tub.  She was a thicker girl but she had nice curves; a good body.  We drank an entire bottle of tequila and then we went back to my place, messed around for a while before we had sex.  It was ok. Nothing like you and I”. 

My face was like a deer in headlights as I listened to the unveiling of his night. Once again, big feelings that were colliding inside me all at once.  I was utterly sick to my stomach thinking about him with another woman.  But after the nauseous feeling subsided it was replaced with a feeling that was foreign to me.  A tingly feeling that started in my most private of areas and crept over my body like a shadow.  

We continued to talk for hours into the wee hours of the morning.  Finally, as the clock approached 3:30am he asked, “what are you doing?”

“I am laying on the couch, talking to you”, I replied. 

“Come over and spend the night with me”, he said. 

The request came out of no where.  After all, he had just been with another woman a few short hours before. His invitation went against all traditional rules of dating and ultimately rules of any kind of relationship.  It was a foreign feeling and one that I had never been subjected to.  I wanted him.  I wanted to reclaim my role with him.  I wanted to give him a basis of comparison, confident that I would come out on top. Everything about it felt naughty but it also felt like I was living for the first time in a long time.

I packed up a bottle of cheap wine I found in my house and drove through the early morning light to his home.  I arrived in disbelief; not really understanding the nature of my visit.  

We cracked the bottle of wine, poured two glasses and headed over to his couch.  There are some cheap wines that are pretty good; however, this was not one of them.  We both winced at the first sip and I did a slight convulsing shake that only bad wine can bring out of me.  As if he read my mind, he said, “the first sip is always the worst”.  However, each sip was just as terrible and I put down my glass after my third swig.  

“This is disgusting, I can’t drink it”, I said. 

He smiled and put down his glass, “Yeah, it is pretty terrible”. 

We both laughed at the predicament.  Here we were, sitting on his couch at 4am and drinking wine that makes us question our life’s decisions.  I don’t know if it was the cheap wine or the sleepless delusion or just the lusty feeling that always accompanies me through the doorway, but at that moment, I forgot about Rocker Chick and the cheap wine.  It was just me and him and nothing else existed.  

We spent the early morning hours wrapped in each other until the morning light passed and the afternoon entered.  We spent the rest of the weekend together and we became emotionally close; often times foregoing our usual sexual circus for quiet moments where we stared into each others eyes for minutes that seemed like hours.  He shared pieces of himself that he reserved for only the most trusted and I allowed him to witness my life’s pain through my eyes, where no words were necessary.  

By the weekend’s end, I felt bonded to him in a way that only an emotional and physical connection can bring.  And we stayed that way until the following weekend approached.  It was a weekend where I had my kids and was looking forward to spending some quality time with them.  I didn’t feel that I needed to worry about the comings and goings of Mr. Grey; I suppose I assumed that he felt bonded to me in a special way as well.  But there is a reason why people say that you should never assume anything and they are absolutely right. 

Friday night approached and I asked what he was doing.  

“I am going to meet some friends out.  I am pretty tired so I don’t want to stay out late.  Rocker Chick might be there but I am going to keep my distance.  Two weekends in a row is a bit much and I want to catch up on some sleep”, he said.  

I liked that he had friends but what I liked more is that he wasn’t planning on spending his time hunting for women; but rather, avoiding them.  I felt it was respectful of our time together and I appreciated it.  That was until around 9pm when I received a text from him from the bar….

“Rocker Chick is here and she is looking hot AF”

I have never felt like I couldn’t find the words to describe my feelings until that moment. 

I wanted to cry. 

I wanted to scream.

  I wanted to drag him out of that bar. 

I wanted to hit him in a fit of rage. 

I wanted him to choose me.  

“Looks like I know what you are doing tonight.  So much for sleep”, I responded. 

Then I put my phone down and didn’t look at it again.  

As much as I tried to ignore him, my mind was filled with images of him with Rocker Chick. Conflicting feelings rose within me which was becoming a theme in our relationship.  He wasn’t forbidden from seeing other women; in fact, it was something I wholeheartedly agreed to.  And while I had no problem going on dates with other men and it didn’t phase Mr. Grey, I definitely did not have the same aloof reaction when the tables were turned.   I thought that honesty was the best policy.  I told myself that I would rather know a hard truth than an easy lie.  But this kind of truth wasn’t sitting well with me and past hurts were starting to surface. 

My 42 year old heart had been severely damaged by my past.  It has been broken, shattered into a million little pieces from deceit and lies.  It took me five years to repair my brokenness; to find myself again and to know that I was worthy of being loved.   But even though my heart was repaired, it wasn’t brand new.  It was still fragile, only held together by the scar tissue that I used to repair the past.  And at this moment, I felt my heart pulling apart, stretching the fragile parts to the point of breaking.  And before I could fully crumble, I would remind myself of my worth; of my value.  

The next morning, he called me from the car.  I was upset but was too proud to admit it so I picked up the phone.  Even though the truth was that we were not exclusive and he was free to date other people, I never imagined that it would lead to sleeping with other women and telling me.  He was friendly and clearly hungover while I remained closed off and curt.  He told me about his night; details that I asked to know but had a hard time hearing. 

In that moment, I hated him. I hated him for being so dumb and not recognizing that I was giving him a shot; something he should value.  I hated him for not following through with his agenda to go home and get rest.  I hated him for his confronting honesty.  I hated him for his terrible decisions.  But most of all, I hated myself for accepting this kind of treatment in my life.  I knew I wanted more.  I knew I should give him up but was having a hard time cutting the ties between us.   I thought that if I could hold on for another few months, that we could finally get to the 6 month mark and have the conversation that would change this part of our relationship. But as the rest of the weekend progressed and he spent more time with Rocker Chick while I was occupied with mom duties, I was confronted with the reality of our situation.  He was developing a relationship with another woman and I couldn’t do anything about it. 

For a while, I treaded water in a space where push and pull became the theme of the relationship.  The push would be significant.  Every time he would go on a date, it would create distance between us.  I would vow to start seeing other people because I believed in “equality”, but with each first date with a new man, I didn’t find anyone that I really liked.  And I would find myself back in the arms of Mr. Grey time and time again. 

It was a Thursday night and Mr. Grey invited me over for dinner.  After several weeks of dating, I was becoming a fan of his vegan bites and his creativity in the kitchen.  As I was getting ready to leave my home, I received a text from him. 

“Bring a jacket and shoes that are comfortable to walk in, we are going on an adventure”, he wrote.  

My eyes lit up and my heart fluttered as I read his words.  Adventure was my love language and he was speaking it.  I was excited in more ways than one and I loved that he continued to surprise me.  

When I arrived at his house, Mr. Grey was busy in the kitchen as he prepared dinner.  As he turned to greet me, I could see a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at me.  I wondered if he looked at Rocker Chick the same way.  Just as the thought of his dating shenanigans entered my mind, I pushed them back into the “I don’t think about this part” vault.  I quickly planted a big smile on my face to hide my ponder and purposely became present in this moment.  

Mr. Grey had an agenda for the night and I could tell that he was rushing to get dinner on the table.  As we dined al fresco on his patio, I started to pry about his plan for the night.

“It’s a surprise”, is all he would say with his boyish grin and his sparkly eyes.  

As soon as we took the last bites of our meal, Mr. Grey was up and setting the plates in the sink.  I followed him into the kitchen, wondering what our next move would be.  He quickly grabbed his already full backpack, put on some sneakers and asked, “you ready?” as I followed him out the door.  

As he trekked through his neighborhood and into the adjacent parklands, I was like a small child on a road trip, constantly asking “where are we going” and “are we there yet”.  Mr. Grey was patient yet unrevealing of the designation while I continued to follow him through the woods.  

The sun was setting on the horizon when we arrived to our destination. 

At first, I was confused by the landscape.  We were on top of what seemed like a mountain plateau.  The view of the skyline looked like cotton candy with hues of pink and purple on the horizon

In the center of the plateau, there was a large patch of artificial turf; something that was odd and seemed out of place. Mr. Grey walked onto the center of the large segment of fake grass and started pulling things out of his bag like he was a magician beginning a magic trick.  First there were blankets that he carefully set down on the ground in picnic like fashion.  Then he pulled out a pillow that was tightly crumpled at the bottom of his backpack in order to make room for the wine and glasses that came out next.  

“Can you open this bottle and pour us some wine”, he asked while I marveled at the level of effort he was putting into our date.   While the air was brisk and a bit chilly, it made us huddle together while we sipped wine and watched the sun disappear behind the mountain landscape.  As the moon rose high into the sky and darkness surrounded us, Mr. Grey pulled out three glowsticks from his backpack, using them to create enough light for us to see while not ruining the ambiance of the night sky.  

We laid on our backs and stared at the stars while we shared pieces of ourselves with each other.  As the hours wore on, we snuggled closer and used the blankets to keep us warm.  And when the temperature began to drop so much that it became unbearable, we packed up and started hiking through the woods back to his house.  

In moments like these, it didn’t feel like there was anyone else in his life but me. 

I was starting to see a pattern in our unconventional relationship.

He would lure me in with his seldom sweetness where he would surprise me with outside adventures and cook me special meals that he invented. 

But he would push me away as he continued to see Rocker Chick and a slew of other women.  I thought things would get better, that he would slow down but with each scheduled date with a new woman; he proved me wrong.  

The feelings I felt with Rocker Chick didn’t go away and only intensified as he lined up other women for his sexual pleasure.  There was the Librarian who was a woman he had been dating before he met me, there was the Nurse who was spunky and fun but also a first encounter conquest.   Then there was a random girl who he had a decent first date but ended up being another notch on his already full bedpost.   He was honest and always shared more than I was prepared for.  Big feelings surfaced once again while I was turned on by the fact that other woman wanted him but then disgusted at the same time.  I tried to stay strong in front of Mr. Grey and pretend like his dating behavior didn’t bother me; but that didn’t last long.  I started having emotional outbursts where I couldn’t hide my hurt any longer and my heart began to harden as it built a wall of self-preservation.  

The pattern of his behavior was deteriorating my self-worth and my self-esteem. 

It was eating away at my insides and making me feel empty. 

 I knew I had to diversify my dating pool.  After all, this idea of “dating without commitment” only worked when you followed the rules and I wasn’t following them.  Instead, I was committing to someone who wasn’t committing to me.  So I started to do things differently.

I started to pull away from Mr. Grey but not cut him out entirely.  I started going on trips with my girlfriends and was reminded that I was wanted and sought after by nearly every man I encountered.  I needed that reminder; the affirmation that my belief in myself was not a farce that only I could see.  I stopped focusing on “winning” Mr. Grey and started focusing on myself and what I wanted.  And as I opened up my horizons, I could see how small my scope was and how focused I was on Mr. Grey; something that neither he nor I wanted.  The good thing was that we didn’t have a commitment, so I didn’t have to end things.  I could continue seeing him if I wanted to, but I also knew that I needed something different; something a bit more traditional that was void of the complications.    And as soon my eyes began to wonder, I met The Writer.  

Next

Chapter 5: The Writer