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As I was leaving the nightmare awkward date, above, I looked to my right and realized The Centaur had been sitting there the whole time, hearing every word. Today, it’s the process of planning vacations that sets me off (I know, I’m pretty lucky if this is the type of thing that gets me upset). Tim has his two middle-school aged cousins in town this week, and life is good.
By the time the date ended, I was pretty convinced that I am a captivating princess witch who can fly, and who should expect nothing less than this level of sensuality and romance. But today, I had that ‘cry in the car’ kind of day, and each of my friends and siblings have done their patient duty of listening to me prattle this already month, and now it’s your turn, dear readers.
I hopped out, full of adrenaline and blissed out and started dancing.
As it turned out, the landing was one of the most graceful things I’ve experienced.
And he has other lovely qualities: he’s fetching, he’s passionate for life, and he’s great with his dog. A little background on how my nicknames for him evolved: ‘The Centaur’ was coined by a mutual friend one night, after this undomesticated man-person had stomped around at a party in only cowboy boots and sparkly spandex. He’s not looking for anything committed or serious. Plus, he’d been a legitimate pilot for twenty years. First, he performed what appeared to be a quite serious safety inspection of the very sexy airplane he’d restored to mint condition over a decade with his dad and best friends.
That quality certainly keeps my walls up, which is kinda just the way I want it right now. I decided it was time and told him about how we call him the Centaur. “I like it,” he said with a grin as the band started to play and we began to dance again. ‘Wild Animal Man’ came from another friend who exclaimed that he was a wild animal when I recounted to her how he’d curled up one weeknight right on my front porch and fell asleep, snoring like an bear, feet sticking eighteen inches off the porch furniture. I like it so much I almost want to trade out the name Molly Undercover for it! When The Centaur moves on, as I’m sure he will sooner or later, I’ve decided I get to keep this nickname. He’s an artist, poet and musician with a confident swagger, broad shoulders, and green-blue-brown eyes.
The great thing about being single and over 40 is that you have plenty of time for dating.
No matter if you are divorced, widowed or a single parent, dating is the best kickstarter to a new life.
He serenaded me in candlelight, a song he’d written on his guitar. I love the way, during this single phase in my life, I am collecting so many experiences and memories as I date different men. I promise, I’ll get it out of my system so we can get back to interesting and fun things tomorrow.