Why the First Time Should Always Be the Last Time

We met through a mutual friend, Mr. C is what I will call him for the purpose of this article, actually my best friend was a friend of his mothers. Both ladies were older than me of course. My first impression of him wasn’t a good one. Possibly because of the stories his mother told. I heard about his financial dependency on her even after he was 30, I heard about the expensive life style he lived without a job, and I heard about the image he attempted to portray to others. So, when I first met him in person I wasn’t that impressed. I felt he was arrogant and spoiled. I didn’t give off any negative vibes or remarks but I also showed very little interest in him. I remember feeling a little zap that I found unnerving when I first walked in to his mothers restaurant and saw him standing in the kitchen. I can’t really explain what exactly it felt like but it was an obvious internal jolt. I frequented the restaurant with my girlfriend and as a result I got to know and became great friends with his mother. It was a very good time in my life.

During the same period of time I was dating an older man from Jamaica. It was a relationship based primarily of lust. Being in my mid twenties at the time I was very naive. I thought this man was the love of my life. I soaked up his affections like water in the desert. Every beautiful word out of his mouth made my foolish heart flutter with girlish vibrations. So when this man asked me out to our favourite local night spot I gladly accepted. Feeling so very special that he chose me and that I would be the girl on his arm. That however was short lived. I was distracted by the dancing and by other friends we had met up with (my Mr.C being one of them), so I lost my date temporarily. When I finally located him, he was in a dark corner with another girl adding her number into his phone. Of course my mood shifted dramatically and I asked my girlfriend for a ride home. She also offered Mr. C a ride home and then the Jamaican jerk asked for a ride as well. Despite my protest she let him the van. The two guys sat in the back not speaking for about 5 minutes. Our first stop was the jerks house. He got out, I refused to go with him, and slammed the door while muttering some nasty word. En route to drop, Mr. C he asked me what happened... after explaining what had occurred at the spot he offered me some very insightful and kind advice. Stating that I was much to sweet to tolerate that sort of disrespect and any man lucky enough would absolutely realize how special I was and act accordingly. He also advised to me to stop wasting my time. I was so blown away by his words and by the level of maturity he showed that night. The wisdom and intelligence that this man possessed had me star struck and in awe. My exact words when he got out of the van were, “WOW, his girlfriend is so lucky.” I spent the night thinking about what he said. The next day me an the jerk were talking and few short months later I was pregnant by said jerk. It would be two years before I found out about his other girlfriend in another town. They had been dating for a year and six months when our son was born.

And this is just the beginning of the rest of my life with my Mr. C