This post is about someone that I love very much. His soul is one that was destined for mine, yet is trapped in a body that makes it impossible for us to be together.
Mike was a Tinder match that never should have gone anywhere.
He was/is significantly older than me. 17 years older to be exact. We talked on Tinder and exchanged numbers. He would text me sweet nothings about how beautiful I was. One time he told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. No man had ever called me a woman before.
I didn’t take him seriously at first. I’m not sure when that changed. I do remember that one night, after drinking, we briefly talked on the phone. It was the first time that I acknowledged the reality of his existence. He was no longer just a text message. I remember that after we hung up I called him right back and told him that I wanted to hear his voice one more time. We went on one date when he was nearby, but after that I wouldn’t see him again in person until a year later.
From there we spoke all the time. We spoke over the phone almost every day. He listened to me. He would listen to me about school and about my friends and about my family. I could get drunk and cry to him about how I hated myself and he didn’t care.
I learned about his life. I learned that he had his own contracting business, he was a boxer, he had lots of Native American style tattoos, he was a functional alcoholic who’s father died of alcoholism, he had a brother named Bryan, he owned multiple properties, he drove a big black truck, one time he got a DWI for falling asleep drunk in his old white truck, he used to smoke pot and do lots of drugs in his youth, he didn’t go to college, he was from Massachusetts, he wore a lot of graphic t-shirts, his family had a home in Newport where he would go binge drink every other weekend during the summers, he wore a Fit Bit, he had a female best friend named Liz….
More importantly I learned that he had been in a slew of long term relationships, none of which turned out to be successful. He wanted a family and kids, but it never happened. One time he had a dog but his ex took the dog when they broke up. One of his relationships was an open relationship, and they as a couple had a girlfriend that would sleepover sometimes.
Mike was very sexually adventurous. He was bicurious. One time he slept with a MtF transgender woman who still had male genitalia. Sometimes he would flirt with guys on dating apps, but he never slept with a masculine man. Or at least, he never admitted that to me.
Mike inspired my sexual career as I know it to this day. He and I became sexual pen pals. His biggest fantasy was to be with me and another man at the same time. He was a cuckhold guy.
One time, and I don’t remember who started it, the Daddy/(step)daughter thing came into play. Maybe I have daddy issues, I don’t know, but it stuck. We would role play all sorts of scenarios as these characters. We still role play this way to this day.
The summer between my junior and senior years of college, Mike got drunk on the fourth of July and texted me that he was in love with me. I asked him if he meant it. I didn’t believe that someone who didn’t make the time to see me for almost a year at this point could possibly be in love with me. Even scarier, I think I immediately knew that I felt the same way.
I kind of brushed that first occasion off, but then it happened again, and again. I confronted him and told him he couldn’t say that to me anymore because it wasn’t fair.
One night I was out with some friends. Somehow we ended up at a strip club down the road from campus. I was the designated driver. Of all the nights that I had offered to drive to Mike’s house, which was only about an hour away, this time he finally said yes.
I dropped my friends off at their respective apartments, and then drove straight to his place. I didn’t even go home to get my wallet. I had to blow through an EZ Pass lane because I didn’t have any cash on me at all. He promised to give me cash to pay the ticket, and he did.
I was so nervous. I drove into his driveway and saw him standing up on the deck in the back. I couldn’t believe I was finally this close to him. I got out of my car, walked up the stairs, and fell directly into his arms.
We walked into his house and wasted no time. He pushed me up against a wall and we started kissing. We made our way upstairs, and he gave me the unofficial tour. We went into a bedroom and he sat down on a couch. I climbed onto his lap and took it from there.
We had sex and then cuddled all night long. When I woke up in the morning he took me to breakfast in his truck. I drove away that morning hopeful that things would be different now.
We went on one more date after that. He took me to an italian restaurant. Little did I know that it was going to be the last time I would see him, probably forever.
I am still in love with Mike and we still talk every day. While I was with my most recent ex I told Mike we could only be friends. That lasted until the last couple months of my relationship, at which point I broke down and could no longer deny that I still was in love with him.
We still sext all the time. It is the perfect set up because he loves the idea of me being with other men. When I sleep with someone else I get to tell him every last intimate detail, and he loves it.
We joke that we are going to get married. We joke that we are going to have babies. I wish any of that were true.
He told me we can never be together because of our age difference. He says he can never give me what I deserve. I feel like a dumb girl for believing that he actually loves me, but I do believe him.
We live even farther apart now that I graduated from school and moved away. The chances of us being together get slimmer and slimmer. I accept that.
I dream that one day I will finally be enough of an adult for him. He still tells me that he loves me and I reciprocate. I wonder how much we love each other, and how much we just love the fantasy that we have created.