The Impossibility Of Compatibity

The Impossibility Of Compatibity

She asked to meet at a local bar near her house. She needed to be close to home in case her kids needed her. The oldest was 12 and she was leaving him in charge while she agreed to meet me in person to test out our potential compatibility.

We got along well and had been texting on and off for weeks but her work and kids schedule didn’t leave her much time to meet up for dates. Normally, I would have just backed away slowly because I got the impression that if she couldn’t find time to date, then she probably wouldn’t have the time to nurture the beginnings of a new relationship. I mean, I understood why. A single mother raising three kids all alone. I can barely drag myself out of bed and to the local Starbucks every day, so I can’t imagine the energy it takes to run her life. But I can be a little selfish sometimes. When I invest myself into another human being, I just assume they would or could do the same for me. This leads to disappointment more often than not but hey, I can’t help it if I want someone to be as passionate about me as I am about them. But there was something intriguing about her. There was a sexiness about her. The way she gave the side eye and smirk in all of her pictures, like she was straight out of an 80’s Glamour magazine. Her responses to my flirting were direct and bold. The one commonality I found with dating single mothers is that their time is too precious for bullshit. A far cry from what I was accustomed to dating.

She flowed in through the door and the place went silent. Her long airy dress was slit up the side and she glided her way to the table like an airbrushed latin seductress. The sexual chemistry was magnetic. I stood to greet her and with an easy smile she said, “Christopher, I assume?” We hugged and she sat across from me and I could literally feel myself begin to salivate. I couldn’t believe the pull she had on me. It wasn’t so much the fact that she was ridiculously attractive but there was a soft confidence about her that made me feel like I was being quietly seduced.

I can’t tell you what we talked about while the bar played radio music and we sipped our drinks. All I know is that I had to excuse myself a few times so I could take a moment from staring at her and collect myself. Each time, I expected to return to an empty table but she stayed and continue to blow my mind.

It had gotten late and she mentioned that she had to get back to her kids so we walked out of the bar and into the chilly night air. I offered to walk her home since she was so close and she reached down and gently interlaced her fingers with mine and said that would be nice. We walked down the street together slowly, stopping to look through the windows of the closed shops along the way. We looked at our reflection in the glass and she said, “You know this could never work, right?”
I pretended to look surprised but responded with a defeated, “I know.”
“Had this been when we were in our 20s, we probably would have been unstoppable.” She said, “But I have three kids and two of their fathers in my life. I work 60 hours a week and I think you need more than that.”
“It’s tragic that everything you’re saying makes sense. And what’s worse, is that you see everything I see. I hate that we are seemingly so perfect.”
“Perfect in all ways but timing.”
She leaned into me and kissed me so deep I felt like I was melting into the wall.
“I just wish that compatibility was enough. I feel like I was lied to growing up.”
“Oh we would have a good run but it wouldn’t last more than a few months and that wouldn’t be fair to my kids.”
“No, I get it.” I said, “I just have a tough time knowing I’m going to have to walk away from someone so truly amazing.”
“Well, I’m not going to make it easy to forget me.” She said, kissing me again and biting my lower lip.
I exhaled audibly and shook my head.
“I kind of hate you right now.” I said smiling.
“No you don’t.”
“You’re right. And that is what is making this so tough.” I said, “Promise me that if something in your life ever changes and you think we could have a realistic shot at this, do not hesitate to get ahold of me.”
“I promise.”

I hugged her and kissed her forehead and never heard from her again.

About author

Christopher Gutierrez

Christopher Gutierrez is the author of several books on love, sex, and relationships. He also hosts a weekly podcast, The Deep End, in addition to running Deadxstop Publishing. Since 2006, he has given hundreds of speakings at colleges, coffee houses and universities all over the world.

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