Closed Doors Pg.10

I went out on a date last night. Blind one set up from one of my best friends. The girl doesn't take no for an answer and insisted that I meet this guy she met off this website and thought we would be a perfect match. Well....she was right. We were so perfect. We both spoke about our exes; our failed relationships; what we miss about them; what we hate about them. We were sitting there at the dinner table and I guess my distractions must have been obvious and he started laughing at me. Nice guy, actually. I felt a little awkward and asked him what the laughter was about and that's when he asked me, "Who is he?" And the only reason why he wasn't offended was because he did the same thing to some other woman when his wife left him. Unfortunately for him, his wife was looking for the same thing he knew he had, a good woman. He didn't hate her and as much as I'd like to, I don't hate my ex either. Because heaven knows if he walked through that door I'd still take him back. I tried selling his things, instead I just put them in the laundry room. I locked the door to his closet. And I never changed the locks on the door in case he decided to come back. I've never been able to deny my feelings. I'd wake up on mornings and hate that. I wouldn't hate him; I'd hate the morning. I'd hate the fact that I was waking up alone and that he wasn't there to kiss, hold, or have sex with. Even if we were late and didn't have time to do those things, he was there and that's what mattered. No surprise texts on my phone telling me that he missed me. Or the surprise phone calls where he took quick breaks and we had phone sex. I wonder what he was doing those days that he didn't call..... shit, he was probably phoning that chic, or worse, actually fucking her.  So at the end of the night, my date wished me well from inside the cab. I went inside and I called another best friend. He came over with my favorite wine and for the first time in a long time I slept comfortably in bed with a man that had no plans of leaving me for anyone else. That's what friends are for.