Men have feelings, too.

Yes, they do. Though, I’ve found they are exceedingly good at hiding them from most women. In fact, I think men’s feelings are probably the most well-hidden thing on the planet.

Yesterday I hung out with Highway Guy. I had texted him over the weekend, with no reply. I understood it was St. Patty’s weekend and he was probably busy working. I resolved to not text him for a week and see if he texted me.

Of course, that resolution lasted all of two days. Monday night, and I had the next day off. I still had moonshine in the fridge I hadn’t gotten to taste yet, and I wanted to try it with someone else. Specifically, I wanted to try it with him.

“Want to drink with me?” I hit send.

Some time later, he actually responded. Turns out a few texts in, I misunderstood a “you can’t hang” text as a rude denial, when he was actually joking, saying something along the lines of “lol, I can drink more than you”. I’ve reached the point where I kind of feel like I walk on thin ice with him. I’m not sure why. I’ve gotten anxious about everything I do and say with him. I’ve gotten tactical, which is never a good thing. I always overthink things and accidentally take them to the next level. Case in point- taking this text too seriously. Although, in my defense, it was a misleading text. He made sure to correct the misunderstanding, and I made some jokes to cover it up. Hey, girls being silly and misunderstanding things is cute, right?

I asked him if he wanted to come to my place, and he said he didn’t want to drive. His responses were taking forever, so I decided to call. No answer.

WTF! I was willing to drive up there and stay the night, since he undoubtedly had class the next day, but I wasn’t going to drive all the way across town without a confirmation from him.

“Answer your damn phone!” I texted.

Eventually I gave up. It was getting late and I took my clothes off and laid in bed. Which, of course, is the recipe for an instant response.

He called and apologized, saying he had been getting into it with his baby momma for the last hour or so, which accounted for his spotty responses and unanswered call. He wanted me to come up there. So, I did. As I drove the ~30 minute drive to his place, I thought about his tone on the phone. I told him I was sorry he had gotten in a long argument with the baby momma, and he said that was pretty much how it was these days. I hadn’t wanted to push for information or anything, so I pretty much just left it at that. But I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. I didn’t envy his situation. And he sounded maybe a little depressed. So, when I got there, I gave him a big hug. I don’t normally hug him when I walk in, but he almost anticipated it, and probably wanted or needed one, and accepted heartily.

We cracked open the shine and talked a little bit with his sister.

Last week Highway Guy told me how his sister’s beau had been getting on his nerves after about a two week stay at their place. I knew the beau was kind of a bum, though I didn’t really know the extent of it. When I was over there last, Highway Guy had been teasing him more than just a little, and whenever he got cozy with the sister in front of us, he told him to knock it off. I could tell that Highway Guy had a short fuse for him, but as we sipped our shine, the sister let out that she was really upset that Highway Guy had treated her beau that way last time. In fact, the beau had gotten to the point that he thought Highway Guy wanted to fight. The beau had left for a week and was on his way to the house as we spoke.

Highway Guy was mad that he was called out by his sister, and what he said next kind of surprised me.

“So, basically, you’re mad at me. Cause it’s either me or him that was right, and it’s not looking like you think it’s me! It’s either me or him who was right!” he said to his sister.

I was surprised because he basically made it out like she had to choose between her beau and her brother. He reminded her that she challenged all of the girls that he brought around just as much as he challenged the dudes she brought to the house too. It’s what siblings do – they look out for one another.

I piped in, being in the middle of all of it, saying, “I think she was just saying you should back off a little because last time it made her upset.”

The sister had clammed up and Highway Guy reiterated it was either he or the beau who was right. I then said I was just going to stay out of it. Actually, I was proud of myself for saying that, because I often try to be the peacemaker or counselor in any uncomfortable situation. It’s led to my demise in relationships before, too. I always give in and compromise with an uncompromising or selfish partner in order to make peace.

Highway Guy eventually disappeared while I had a little small talk and shared a few online funnies with the sister. She eventually wondered where he went for so long, and went looking.

“He’s just chilling in his room I guess.” I took it to mean she was upset and tired (I had gotten there at midnight) and could use some alone time before the beau showed up.

I went to Highway Guy’s room. The door was locked. What?

When I knocked, he answered.

“What are you doing?” I asked, concerned.

“I’m just chilling”

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m just chilling.”

I could hear the lie in his tone of voice. He was obviously upset. A little drunk, yes, but this was not the normal, energetic drunk Highway Guy that I had come to know. I’d never seen him like this. The only inkling of the person I was now seeing laying on the bed alone I had seen once before.

It was another night I was drinking with them, and the sister and her beau were hitting on me. That’s right, hitting on me. Now, a little drunken kiss with a girl is not something I’m a stranger to. But, I had a problem with the sibling of someone I was fucking hitting on me, too. It was a little too Jerry Springer and weird for me. In fact, I had overheard one night the beau and her conversing – “….I thought you wanted to fuck her?” my ears still resound of a conversation not meant for them to hear. It was the sister saying it to the beau. I figured she maybe was trying to get me in on a menage-et-trois because the beau had wanted it. Hell, maybe she did a little, too.

Sorry, but I wasn’t into it. I was happy enough fucking Highway Guy, and staying off of daytime white trash drama TV shows.

Anyways, that one night they were flirting with me on the deck, I could see Highway Guy behind the sliding glass door, pacing a little and then retiring to his bedroom, having seen the goings-on through the sliding glass himself. Perhaps he thought he had lost my attention. That’s how it appeared that night. I eventually said something to the sister about him looking sad, and made a point to get him out and hanging with us. I guess it worked because he snapped out of that mopey state and of course I had gone to bed with him that night.

But that was only like a 5 minute episode. And, he’d seen me looking depressed there before, too. Remember the beau making fat comments to me and my hiding to “pet their cat”?

Depression is not something I’m a stranger to. I’ve battled with it since I was 13. I was diagnosed then, and refused any medication. College was a really hard time for me, trying both to find myself and become an independently functioning individual, and parties and alcohol wasn’t helping the situation then. I’ll credit the angels I had for friends for keeping me afloat for those years in my life.

I gave in to medication when my ex-husband was deployed to Iraq. Life was hard, we were fighting, and the stress of him being gone just got to me too much. I had angels around me this time, too, but for one reason or another, I couldn’t do it on my own this time. It was the only time in my life that I had had trouble sleeping, too. Being on antidepressants just made that worse, too. It seems to me that once you take one medication, it just leads to others to quell the side effects of the first, until every day you are taking a cocktail of prescriptions, just to fix something that you could have fixed a little more holistically in the first place. But, that’s a theory for another blog. Eventually I came off the Celexa and cope with my depression on my own once again.

The point I’m trying to make here is that I know depression when I see it. And I saw it in Highway Guy, laying pathetically in his bed and claiming it was just that he was drunk.

I tried a few times to get him to talk. I was sure it had something to do with the baby momma, and then his sister’s rejection of what was an expression of his brotherly protection over her. But, he clammed up and didn’t budge. He did mention to me that he was moving in a week. Turns out, he will be closer to my house, which is wonderful for me. But, he is moving back home to save some money. I couldn’t help but wonder if the situation with the sister had anything to do with the choice.

When he had texted me earlier that night saying he wasn’t going to drive, it was because he had no gas money to get him there and back. It was becoming apparent that he had been trying to hide how much of a poor college student he really was.

I don’t blame him. If the tables were turned, I’d do the same thing. I think the fact is intensified because of our genders. And, he has a child to look out for. We talked for some time about money. I told him I wanted to be clear that I understood. I’d been there. And I’m older now and stable, so driving across town really wasn’t a big deal to me. I didn’t mind doing it, or buying him a pack of cigarettes if he really needed it.

He had made a sandwich later in the night, and confessed that it needed to last him, because there really wasn’t any food in the house. I had noticed their fridge was normally pretty empty. Mine gets that way sometimes, too, but more because I’m single than because I’m too broke to fit some grocery money into my budget. I told him that it was a good thing he would be closer to my house in a week, because we would be hanging there instead now, and I always had food.

“Yeah,” he said, as if he had already considered that fact.

I felt bad for Highway Guy. He was trying his best. I could always see that since I had gotten to know him. I sent him a text this morning letting him know that even though his house was far from mine, he was always welcome here for a meal if he was hungry. After all, I like to cook for others and don’t get the opportunity to do it.

He didn’t respond. It’s probably a little bit of a hit to a man’s ego. I’ve always heard that relationships where women make more money than their men often have issues. I understand that men have a need to provide, and when they aren’t the majority provider, it can cause feelings of insecurity in the man. I’ve also seen relationships where this didn’t make a lick of difference, but I do believe that man, at his core, needs to be the provider.

At least, Highway Guy is a provider for his daughter, and hopefully he finds satisfaction in that to quell whatever feelings our cougar-esque relationship brings him.

After we talked a little, I cuddled onto his chest.

“You’re falling asleep,” I told him.

“No I’m not,” he mumbled, almost incoherently.

“You think I haven’t seen someone fall asleep before? You’re falling asleep! I’m going to give you a nurple!!!!” I said, pinching his nipple.

“Nooo!” he said. I played with it gently. He seemed to be enjoying it.

“You should play with something a little further south.”

I stuck my finger in his belly button.

He laughed. “No, more south!!”

He had a big erection waiting for me. I forced him to shower for me when he confessed he hadn’t showered all day. I told him I had for him, so it was only fair. He complied and sex ensued. I made out with him for a while. Normally I don’t like doing this during casual sex, but I wanted it this time. And, he was a good kisser. I didn’t recall this about him. That could be because I’m normally plastered when we screw.

“I like the way you kiss,” I whispered between kisses.

“Yeah?”

“Do we normally do this?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

The kissing went on passionately and I played with his neckline, which turns out to be just as sensitive as mine. Aha…a weak spot.

I gently ran my fingers over his body, coming oh-so-close to his manhood but never actually touching it.

“Tease,” he called me.

“You like it,” I retorted.

“Maybe a little.”

I gave him a handy-J and we shared several positions before he came in the hardest way. I was on top and he gazed so strongly into my eyes while I worked into him. He had some compulsion to say my name during sex recently, and I’ll admit that I kind of enjoyed it. Trouble is that all of the gazing and name-gasping made me feel like we had more of a personal connection this time–the fact that I may have rescued him from a potential night of self-loathing and depression notwithstanding.

This time and the last he must have been waiting for me, because he was incredibly sensitive afterwards, and it was a one-shot session rather than the two or three I was used to with him. I cleaned up and cuddled in and we fell asleep. In the morning he was up for class and walked me to my car, as usual. He kissed me and said goodbye. This time I noticed how very flirty he was when he said he’d hit me up later. In his tone and the way he looked at me, his body language, all of it. I either never noticed it before, or it was so exaggerated this time that I actually said something.

“You’re such a flirt! I never noticed that before!”

“What, it’s just the way I talk!” He said, walking away, smiling. I blew him a kiss from my car as I drove by. He smiled at that, too, waving back.

I hope that he had a better day today. My parents will be coming to visit me this coming weekend, so I may or may not be seeing him for a while. But, I will be thinking of him. We all know how dangerous that is, so I agreed to have the Hotel Bartender over today. I tend to fill my life with experiences with other men to distract me from the guy I keep thinking about.

Aside from that, The Hotel Bartender was skilled at giving me orgasms, and I was long overdue for one. And I wasn’t disappointed. The Hotel Bartender never lingers when he comes over. He doesn’t have as cute of a face as Highway Guy, but his body is nicer and he never neglects eating me out. His stubble was enough to drive me bonkers, though. It was at the length where it was like sandpaper on my face. We came simultaneously and he headed home afterwards. I was satisfied and laughed at the fact that three days prior, I couldn’t get anyone to pay attention to me, but in the last 24 hours I had visited with two suitors, and fielded texts from The Shorty, Mr. Blue Eyes (who btw, is still stuck on me. More on that later), and a man I’ve been out with before, but have never bedded. I’ve mentioned him before, so I guess he deserves a surname. We’ll go with Cat Guy. He’s got two cats, is shorter than me, works in IT and is very intelligent and boringly stable. We get along well but I’m not sure he thinks I’m as attractive as him, and he is also too short for my taste. We’ll likely remain craft-beer drinking friends.

But it always ends up either feast or famine with these guys. Why can’t they just get together and coordinate what days they are going to ignore me?