Just so you know, this is a “what to do” as well as a “what not to do” kind of post. When you read this, you’re probably going to wonder how Marc an I ever managed to get married let alone have four children. Let me make this clear: We were idiots. We somehow managed to stumble our way through though, so take heart if there is someone you’re really attracted to: You never know.

We had known each other for about six weeks and had been in each other’s company the entire time. Marc had recently broken up with a girlfriend (after meeting me) and I had gotten out of a relationship just two months earlier. My ex had been seen in my apartment when I wasn’t home. Marc, ever the gentleman, offered to “bodyguard” me until we were sure that wasn’t going to happen again. For myself, being the considerate person that I am, I thought I would try to just enjoy having his company as he got over his ex. As a result, nothing had happened between us up to this point. On top of that, both of us were clueless as to how the other felt. You see, at three weeks in, as we got to know each other, I developed a marble chute in my head: Marc told me he was interested in me, and I believed that someone that gorgeous couldn’t possibly be interested in me that way. It kind of went like this:

Marc: I’m VERY interested in you.

Me: …processing…

Marc: I want to be with you.

Me: …Nope. No such file or directory.

Marc: Very meaningful and passionate gaze directly in my eyes.

Me: Are you sure you don’t want to talk to your ex? It’s not too late, you know.

Judging from the above conversation, I think you can understand that despite our obvious attraction and feelings for each other (and to anybody watching), we took a little while to truly connect.

I have to say that he dumped her to be with me… Yeah, he tried to tell me that too. Pathetic, I know, but in my defence Marc is 6′2″ tall, blond, curly haired, bronzed, rich baritone voice, intense blue-grey eyes, extremely intelligent… Me? I thought that I didn’t have much in the looks department other than my eyes, being fit, and some kind of sex appeal that men seemed to like, so figured I’d better work on my “inner looks”. Those were the only things I thought I had to bring to the table. Marc tried many times to disabuse me of this notion, at which point the marble chute usually got activated, and the above conversation ensued minus the ex. I had issues, I know.

As a side note, the marble shoot has since been disconnected, primarily because Marc yanked the plug through words, photos and sheer persistence. Ladies, get yourself a man who adores you and don’t let him go, no matter what. Trust me. Gentlemen, adore the one you have and PROVE it over and over again to her every day; you’ll be glad you did.

Anyway, back on topic.

At six weeks, I no longer cared about being thoughtful of his recent break-up (never mind what he told me), and wanted him for myself. So, I set out to seduce him. I tried being all sexy, not easy for me, but it had worked with other men. Nothing. After a couple of days of this, I tried a more direct approach: I asked him for a back massage. He agreed. I discreetly (mistake number one) took off my shirt so he could massage my bare skin. Marc started giving me a wonderful back rub. As his hands reached the upper sides of my back, I discreetly (mistake number two) lifted my chest up from the couch trying to encourage a more intimate massage. Remaining the gentleman, he never took the hint. After an hour of repeating this frustrating cycle, I discreetly (mistake number three) put my shirt back on and told him I was going to have a bath.

Marc: Discreetly? What the hell is discrete about a topless woman? I wanted to massage every part of her body, including the ones that were yet to be revealed!

In the bath, I thought whatever sex appeal I felt I might’ve had with this man was very probably fictitious, and I figured I was pretty damn safe to ask him to come and wash my back, while we continued our chat. So I called out and asked if he wouldn’t mind doing just that. His answer was basically, “OK, sure”. He came in, and washed my back. I laid back in the water and he sat down on the toilet facing me to talk.

Early into our conversation, I noticed Marc started talking to my chest. This was great! I interjected something new into the conversation, and ZIP! Up came Marc’s head, staring with extreme focus AT my eyes like he was trying desperately to plaster his eyes in a respectful place. Hmmm. Down went his eyes as we continued. I did this a couple of more times, and sure enough, his eyes followed the same pattern. Yes! Finally, I told him he could look if he wanted to, to which he said the most desperate thank-you I have ever heard and stared so hard I thought he would make dents out of my bumps.

Marc: Ok, hang on a second here… In my defence, I wasn’t quite the gentleman that Dawne is painting me to be. I wanted her. I wanted her so bad that I was afraid of doing anything that might scare her away. By this point, I had come to the conclusion that she was only interested in friendship. I won’t say that I was ok with that, but took consolation in the fact that friendship was at least something that I could work with.

I had an evil plan brewing in my curly locked head, you see. Phase one: strengthen the friendship. Concurrent to that, drive away all potential suitors, a feat which wasn’t terribly difficult as at that point in my life I was quite comfortable embracing my inner bastard. Phase two was a little fuzzier, but essentially involved growing our relationship to the “more than friends” stage.

However, I was stuck on the Phase One part of my evil plan. That would be the part in which we are just friends. So when Dawne took her shirt off, I rejoiced, for it showed that she really trusted the strength of our friendship. It was far too early in my plan for her to have actually developed some feelings for me, so my curly locked head jumped to the only logical conclusion: Dawne was a nudist.

By the time she hit the tub, I was so stressed out from the effort of being respectful of her lifestyle, and the trust she placed in me, that I was seriously considering a very, very cold shower. With ice cubes.

There’s an old saying, “The best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray.” That night I could have easily rewritten it to read, “The best laid plans of men oft fall to his own inherent nature”. Once she gave me permission to look, I spent the rest of the evening talking to her lovely chest. My only disappointment for the rest of the night was that she didn’t ask my help in towelling off.

Fast forward to getting out of the bath, then sitting on the couch having a wonderful time discovering our feelings for each other and finally, getting all sexyfied with each other. Mistakes one through three were wiped out, right? Wrong!

Getting naked…

After getting all hot and heavy on the couch, we decided to move to the bedroom. Up to this point (from the bathtub onwards), Marc had led me with masterful subtleness in how to interact with him. But, to get to the bedroom meant breaking from that spell he had me under and I’m an idiot when it comes to all things romantic. So, I got up with the thought running in my head, “Have to get to the BED, hehe…”. We went into the bedroom. I turned off the light, stripped down fast, and dove under the covers. Mistake number four! The first three could be discounted because of stupidity, but this one nearly broke a very powerful flow and mood.

Marc was left standing in the doorway with a look on his face that, at a guess, I’d have to say was along the lines of, “What the Hell?!”. You guessed it - mistake number five is coming. You know what I said next with all the sensitivity of concrete? : “Aren’t you getting undressed?”. Yup, I actually said that to a complete romantic who firmly believed in seduction. He asked me why I had just done what I’d done and then, here comes mistake number six, I said, “I don’t want you to see me naked when we make love.”.

Marc: This coming from a woman who’s idea of seduction involved getting naked in the bathtub!? Honestly, I began to wonder at her sanity at this point. The good news is that by then I was so firmly in love (and lust) that I rapidly decided that if she was crazy, then I would just have to be crazy with her. So, still standing in the doorway, I got undressed. But not so fast that she couldn’t admire my physique….

Lessons

What can we learn from this? Well, a few things actually.

1. Talk to each other clearly and if necessary, repeatedly, about your feelings.

2. Really listen to each other even if you’re afraid of what you’ll hear.

3. Be direct when you need to if subtlety fails even if you’re afraid to be. You may get turned down, but then again you might not.

4. Reveal yourself: If you want to love someone, it’s the first thing you have to be prepared to do, or there’s no point to it. Remember, you’re trying to give your heart to them.

5. Don’t get caught up in your own head to the point of missing the situation in front of you.

6. Be consistent with yourself, your feelings and your lover: Even if you have conflicting feelings or are insecure, tell them about it as honestly as possible.

Marc: I would also add that if there is a moral to our stumbling story of seduction, let it be this: Love truly does conquer all. For in the end, it was our love for each other that enabled us to overcome those first night foibles, and many more in the years to come. It has been said before, and I will repeat it here again: do not be afraid to love, and in loving, love greatly. Abandon your self to its terrible tribulations, as well as its magical mercies, for the only freedom worth having is bound up in the chains of love.

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