Catching My Man

The difference with men and women is easy. Men have sex and walk away. Women have sex and they are hooked on him. Especially if she is young and he's older and mature. I was 19, he was 29. My life experience was limited to living at home, his life experience was Army Ranger, officer, stationed overseas, combat, Master's degree in Engineering. And heavily experienced in matters of the flesh. Woman flesh.

How many women? I didn't care. How many men for me? Zero. All I know is that afterwards I was a woman. He didn't think so, but I knew so. I did what women in love have to do, I haunted him, when he looked up I intended to be there. As far as I was concerned no other woman would catch his eye again. Of course, in my mind. He had other women, I imagine some were like me, he was their first and in love, and others did those things for a living.

I got up the nerve and went to him and asked him why he didn't call. It was just sex he said. Not to me, I said. A woman, I reminded him, doesn't play around. He looked at me, a girl would say something like that. I had a lot more work to do. I'll cut to the chase, it took me all of my sophomore, my junior, and senior years. By the time he saw the woman in me, I was an experienced woman. How many men for me? One. I won't say how many women for him, it's not becoming to be counting other women.

I'm married, my idea not his, but perseverance has it's charm. I don't ask him where he's been, none of my business he says. I don't ask but I got him guilted into telling me. Ruined it for him. Sorry, a woman doesn't kiss and tell, and it turns out that him kissing and telling started to sound bad to him, like a kid bragging. So I can only conclude, he's down to one woman. And that's me. He's not bragging any more.

I'm not bragging, it's true.