After a breakup, many women need a transitional relationship to help them get from point A (I hate anything with a penis and romantic movies like The Notebook!) to point B (I’m ready for penis again and my very own Ryan Goesling to built me a house!). The Transition Guy, as I like to call him, isn’t our future husband or even a potential boyfriend. He is simply the guy who gives us that extra wink, buys us that extra drink, and tells us we are beautiful and intelligent at the right time.
My Transition Guy did all of the above. He appeared in April – weeks after my 34th birthday – at a birthday party. It had been 11 months since I ended my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, Luke. It had also been weeks since that dreadful “date” with Jack or John (also knows as Raymundo) and his ex, Debbie. Read here if you need a refresher.
There I was – at a birthday party of a woman I hardly knew but felt obligated to attend as she supported my endeavor when attending the Love Trips book launch. I walked toward the bar in Apt.78 and decided I’d congratulate the birthday girl and only remain for 15 minutes. I spotted her. Gave her a quick hug and kiss. And the countdown began.
That’s when I spotted him – an athletic build, light-skinned man with dimples and a full head of hair. He looked at me and smiled. I looked away shyly but made it a point to stand beside him when I approached the bar. I ordered a margarita. He turned to me and asked for my name. We began to chat.
He was Puerto Rican and Italian. He lived in the Bronx, was 33 going on 34, and an ex Marine. He was also single and ready to mingle…casually.
“I’m just having fun,” he commented when we discussing relationship statuses.
The night continued. He was a gentleman and purchased my drink, and the next and the next. I engaged with him and his friends. A round or two or three of shots were ordered and swallowed. Then came sudden bursts of affection.
Transition Guy walks me to the bathroom and places his hand on the small of my back (my favorite move).
Transition Guy pulls me in when a bar patron gets too close.
Transition Guy hugs me while outside, keeping me warm, and kisses me on the neck.
This may seem like a lot of affection, especially since I just met Transition Guy, but this is what I needed at the time. As we walked hand in hand down the streets of Washington Heights, I didn’t care that he hadn’t asked for my phone number. When we arrived in front of my building and he kissed me lightly on the lips, I didn’t need anything else. No hope for an actual date. No fantasy of the future that could be. I didn’t need any of it. All I wanted was a night where I felt special again, desired again, catered to again. And that’s what he gave me.
Transition Guy helped me transition from point A to point B. Now, I’m ready for my house.