no. 9 charlie (part3)

Where did I leave off…oh yes! That night was not the last of Charlie. I went to bed with no guilt or remorse, as I had so many other nights. I’m pretty sure there was a part of me that thought I would never see him again. Sure enough he called me the next day. I don’t think I answered his call. I do know that when we went out it was a Thursday and I called again that Monday. On my way home that Tuesday he calls and wants to know if I want to go to dinner that evening. I assume that has to be a good thing. That was the first time and hopefully the last time I had dinner at Charlie’s with Charlie. As far as I’m concerned Charlie is quite the dichotomy, he presents himself completely not of whom he appears to be. I know you should never judge a book by its cover, but that does hold some validity. He even reached over to give me a kiss when I got into the car. A surprise I was ambivalent about. We had dinner together that night and it was simply OK. But this is the time when you either start to have things in common with a person or you don’t(it may have been wiser to do that before I let him in my bed). It was becoming more and more apparent that the only thing we had in common was getting deeper into one another’s pants. As the night came to an end (so I thought) and we were at my place again he of course wanted to come in. I was not going to let this happen again. So we went to his place. We laid on the couch and talked about life and nothing special. As I look back on it, we still had nothing in common; I was simply along for the ride. The conversation always lended toward and this was not the first time, was his ex, this man was so insecure for someone who had so much to be thankful for, but couldn’t realize it. I mean I can be slightly empathetic looking back, but enough was enough, he was all me, me, me. We laid on the couch awhile longer and finally moved things into his bedroom. That night when he dropped me off at home was the last I saw of Charlie. That was until Thursday of last week.