The Ad

In this age of technology, they met in the old fashioned way, via newspaper personal ad. He had been, unsuccessfully, dating friends of family and friends of friends. Ever since his divorce, he had seemed too desperate, too needy, too whatever excuse they wanted to offer. He was just trying to show his true self, no holds barred, him, raw. As a last ditch effort, before joining those he considered foolish trying to meet someone online, he thought he'd try a personal ad in the local paper.
Against all counsel, his ad read: 'Divorced white male, age 47, educated, part-time veteran owned business owner, full time engineer. Likes landscaping, woodworking, fishing and writing erotica. Looking for a woman, in her early 30's to late 40's, not afraid of my likes, willing to be my friend and perhaps more later. I am a survivor of a domestically abusive ex-spouse and will flee if I see the warning signs. Please reply to PO Box listed."
I know, he practically drove the nails in his own coffin, but believe it or not, he had several offers! They were mostly of the following tone: I know you are hurting and I'd like to see if I can ease your pain, blah, blah, blah. They were looking for a "fixer-upper" a "project" man, if you please. What a catch, educated engineer, business owner, just slightly damaged.
He çekmeköy escort saw through that and didn't want to be anyone's "project". He had already dealt with his demons and was ready to get on with his life. Just as he was about to give up looking through the pile of "project" mail, one caught his eye. It had an "attention to" on the envelope. "Attention to: gentle sensitive man with strong inner strength"
He decided to try this one just in case. As he read her reply to his ad, tears welled up in his eyes. She "got" him; understood him without even knowing him. Her reply, "You are a strong man to have lived through what I imagine was hell, disguised as love. A man with an unending capacity for love, support and care; one who is deserving of a woman who accept him without reservation, judgment, or criticism. If you are interested in meeting me, this is where I will be on this day. You won't need to wear anything special; I'll know who you are."
The date was this Saturday, at 3 pm, in the local park, not far from his house. He made up his mind to show up as she sounded sincere and knew him without having met him. The entire week at work flew in anticipation of his "date". Saturday afternoon, as the hour approached, he vacillated cevizli escort several times before he told himself he was just being silly. He could always just walk away.
He decided to walk to the park 5 blocks away. As he approached, there were many people sitting about on the lawn, on benches, alone, with others, but no one that seemed to draw his attention. As he slowly walked by the ball court, he sensed someone behind him. Turning, he found himself face to face with his next-door neighbor. She had divorced her husband several years ago, and as he found out, was also a victim of domestic violence.
She knew his pain, his ordeal, his journey; and she was the last person he ever suspected would be attracted to him. He had seen her as she left on her dates. So many different men, that he thought she must surely be running a brothel, or escort service. It never dawned on him that she was just sifting out the wheat from the chaff, looking for the soul that would complement her.
She knew from the ad who he was. She found it endearing that he listed everything that interested him, including the erotica. She was a fan of the Harlequin Novels and was interested to see what he had written, and how it reflected on his inner soul. They erenköy escort walked and talked for hours. He instantly knew she was no escort, because she understood him too completely to have not been through this herself.
They went to his house and sitting on the porch, laptop in hand, he brought up his blog and turned it over to her to read. She read every blog, even the extremely racy ones. Laughter and tears; the occasional tsk, tsk as she read the incestual affairs, eyes over the screen, eyebrows arched up as she read about the young lovers and the multiple partners. When she got to his later writings and the emotion that poured from them, her eyes welled with tears. Setting the computer down, she looked at him, held him and cried on his shoulder.
He was bewildered at her behavior, not knowing quite what to do, or what was acceptable, he followed his heart. He rubbed her back, held on to her and let her cry it out. As the sobbing subsided, she raised her head, her face so close, he could feel her breath as she exhaled through her nose, she closed her eyes and kissed him, softly at first, then with more passion. Her mouth parted and her tongue probed his mouth with passion. Several minutes later, as they held each other, she told him, "Your raw sexual passion, your transformation, and your deep running emotions overpowered me. When you only held me, and let me know you were there, without trying to fix what was wrong, you showed me your true love, compassion and empathy for another human being.
"I think we will have fun exploring, writing, and finding out about each other. Now, about Elle, was she really pierced down there.....?"