It’s possible that I’m no longer telling these stories in chronological order but after this many years it’s really hard to keep track of who was when.

I was set up with Carey through a coworker/friend of mine, Cathy, who was friends with him. She insisted I meet him. He had a good job, a high degree of responsibility at that job, a nice house, his kids were grown up and gone and he’d been divorced for over ten years.

I was newly separated, had been playing the field for over a year and hadn’t met anyone that I’d gotten serious with. I was curious about this supposed bad boy so I said why not and agreed to go to his house with Cathy on a Friday night.

He had a large group of friends who all rode Harleys and his house was their hangout. I arrived with my friend Cathy, I’d brought my own beer and as was the norm at that time, a pack of cigarettes in my purse. She introduced me to Carey and we all hung out in his kitchen, drinking, smoking and some of the guys were doing lines of cocaine on his kitchen counter.

He was probably the most sensible of his group of friends. He drank sure and he smoked cigarettes but he didn’t touch the cocaine and actually didn’t even smoke pot. He could handle his alcohol well and he was kind and thoughtful.

He was also big and tall in stature and I loved how I felt small next to him, even though I’m five foot seven myself. I loved how when we talked, I had to look up to see his face.

The night was fun, lots of laughs and the drinks were flowing. I don’t remember if everyone had gone home or if his friends were still lingering when he picked me up and sat me on the island in his kitchen. Picked me up like I was a doll and just sat me there. It was so hot. I remember the look in his eyes, what a feeling to be wanted like that.

We started kissing and didn’t stop until we were upstairs in his bed and taking our clothes off.

The sex was just so-so and afterwards I rolled over to try and go to sleep, (I’m not a cuddler) and he lit up a smoke in bed. I thought to myself oh my god, not only does he smoke inside of his home, he smokes in bed! It felt like I was in a time warp and had landed in 1975.

I really liked being with him but I knew he was just a Mr. Right Now, not a Mr. Right. There was no way I could see introducing the kids to someone like him. His lifestyle said live fast, die hard and his family man days were over.

I continued seeing him for several months, on the weekends when the kids were at their dads and I was lonely, depressed and bored out of my mind. He was a good distraction for the time being.

We never saw each other exclusively I wouldn’t say. It wasn’t something we discussed but we just kept things pretty casual. I’m not sure if he was seeing other people but I definitely was. But every now and then I’d gravitate back to his house to feel the familiarity of him. The no responsibility. The casual good time and the feeling of being looked after and protected.

I don’t remember how or why I stopped seeing him. I don’t recall if words were spoken or if I just stopped going around his place. I figured if he really wanted me in his life bad enough he would seek me out. He eventually did. A text message. I was polite in my reply but I basically said, not happening, ever.

That chapter was done.