Hey ladies and gentlemen!!!!!! You have to excuse my exclamation points, because sometimes they get out of hand. But that’s the only way to really express how excited I am that you’re back or visiting for the first time. Real quick, there are six (6) parts to this series. Please check them out. They’ll get you caught up. And if the newbie’s happen to be wondering what SiNgLe MoMmY FiLeS is all about hit “FiRsT StEpS” , it’ll explain everything.
Again, picking up where we left off. So you already know that the first thing I did on the drive home, after my date with MiStEr, was tell someone. If I hadn’t, I would’ve ended up shouting it from some random rooftop…well maybe not, I mean it was late and I wasn’t that crazy, but I certainly felt this urge to get it out. I really wanted the world to know, but I settled for my bestie instead, and opted to make a phone call.
And let me just tell you, it was a lot of screaming and squealing, the word “girl” being thrown back and forth throughout the entire conversation, and a self-inflicted pinch here and there, to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming. I had the bruise on my arm, to remind me later. I really couldn’t believe that I was the leading lady again, in my very own fairytale…which I happened to still believe in despite that thick divorce decree that the judge signed off on four years ago.
Ladies, carrying me over that puddle was…pure romantic genius. If there was any doubt left in my mind about MiStEr—trust me, this is too good to be true, served me notice, complete with neck roll and hand on her hip several times that night—that display of complete and utter gentleMANness cancelled it ALL out.
Now I’m sure some of my male counterparts are reading this and saying, “Oh, that’s all I had to do to get a woman to fall head over hills for me?” And my answer to that is…yes, yes and more yes! But here’s the deal fellas, if you read “WrOnG MiStEr” PaRt 6, you would know that that wasn’t the only thing he did, but it was certainly the most impressive.
SPECIAL REPORT: I am interrupting this regularly scheduled program to inform you that the wasband corrected me on a statement that I made in Wednesday’s post. He insists that he allegedly carried me over the threshold. I’m going to honor his word for the sake of his credibility and retract my statement.
Disclaimer: Please be advised that I am still suspicious of his claim considering I would never forget something that important.
Okay, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way—I hope you’re happy wasband—let’s get back to the story. So, I got home that night and I was sort of in this blissful trance. I can hear my baby TJ telling me “mom you’re taking it too far right now,” but you have to know, after four years and three months to the date, this right here, had been a loooong time coming.
In the mirror, my eyes beamed with delight at the sight of the smile plastered on my face. My mind ran with thoughts of MiStEr. My heart beat in anticipation. And that night, my dreams replayed the images of our picture-perfect evening into the next morning.
We talked a few times that Saturday as he made rounds to see friends, his very last night in L.A. I would have liked to see him again, but there was a small part of me that preferred for us to leave things exactly how we did. I wasn’t sure if he could top Friday night’s first impression—he could duplicate it maybe–but probably not top it, and I definitely didn’t want anything to ruin it.
That Sunday morning, I awoke to the unusually pleasant sound of my ringing cell phone—unusual in that, I preferred my alarm—but this call was an exception. MiStEr wanted me to know that he had made it to the airport and was getting ready to board the plane. He let me know how much he enjoyed spending time with me and that he would call me when he got home. As promised, he did just and then some. Not only did he call when the plane landed, but he called after he got his bags, on his way home, and later that evening after he had dinner.
And it didn’t stop. Our days, over the course of a couple of weeks went a little something like this; we would text throughout the work day. He would call as soon as he got off of work, Monday – Friday; out of church on Sunday, in between errands; after dinner; AND he made it a point—per my request, and his compliance might I add–to make me the last person he spoke to before he went to bed at night. Aside from God, I was the last thing on his mind at night and the first thing on his mind every morning. Niiice right ladies?
As I got to know him more, I discovered that he was naturally funny. I was always laughing and he had found yet another way to my heart. He enlightened me with his cultural background and upbringing along with his extensive historical knowledge. I admired his intelligence and experience and insight. The more he shared, the more I wanted into his world.
Apparently he had plenty of game changers up his sleeve. One night, while at Chuck E. Cheese with my fam, he called and our conversation took a very interesting turn, after he teased me about the fathers being interested in me, which was really a way to check to see if I was paying attention to the attention being paid to me.
Anyway, I wasn’t expecting what came next. He started asking me in depth questions about my thoughts on marriage, what I expected from a husband; who I would be willing to be as a wife; if I wanted more kids, how many; what would be my role as a mother; what was my position on education for myself and my children; what my short and long term goals were. Obviously, I had similar questions for him. That night, we had a deep convo And the longer we talked, the more I realized that MiStEr wanted into my world just as much as I wanted into his.
We continued to converse, and at the end of our discussion, he asks, “what is it that you want from me?”
“Well, we’ve become good friends. And I hope at some point, we can become more than that, and eventually something serious. Obviously, I’m at a point in my life that I don’t want to do a whole lot of dating, or waste any time in a relationship that doesn’t have the potential to go anywhere,” I continued, I had it all thought out as you can see, “but at the same time I’m in no rush, to get married or anything (my assurance policy for my non ThIrStInEsS),I’m really just following your lead.”
“Well, I don’t want any followas,” he replies.
“Alright, what is it that you want then MiStEr?”
“I want you!” he says quite convincingly.
So you know I was through right?!? Speechless to say the least and my girl Bey described exactly what was happening to me right then and there:
♪ ♫ Remember those walls I built? Well, baby they’re tumbling down. And they didn’t even put up a fight. They didn’t even make a sound. ♪ ♫
Now, I’m also convinced that one or two of those bricks may have been responsible for taking my biological clock out, because the pestering tick and annoying tock was finally…gone. And at this point, I felt as if there was nothing else he could do, or show me, or say, to prove exactly how much he cared about me. I was ready to take that next step with him, and that’s exactly what I did.
Were things moving too fast? Possibly, BUT, I figured that we were both real grown and knew exactly what we did and did not want in a relationship, and that is why it was easy for us to progress the way we had.
So you see, as a lot of you have already pointed out, this MiStEr was right from the very start. He had it going on. He was physically attractive, culturally diverse, spiritually attuned, academically advanced, financially stable, and romantically inclined. So why is he in the WrOng MiStEr series, you ask? Well, you’ll find out soon enough. We’re almost there ladies, trust me, we’re almost there.
So I’ll see you Monday?! Until then…