Things were moving at a steady pace, everyone was gearing up for the ‘wedding of the millennium,’ as my dad loved to call it. People willing and planning to travel across the globe to attend my wedding. We had almost a year after he proposed to plan this wedding of ours. So, we didn’t leave any stone unturned. From booking the venue, to the caterer, and the florist, everything was done with fine taste and thought.
Suggested read: The moment I realized my marriage was over
The groom’s family was equally excited, their only son was getting married and it was also the first wedding after about two decades in their family. Everyone was literally waiting for this big day.
Image source: Google, copyright-free image under Creative Commons License
So much excitement, so many things to do, tasks to complete, and way too much happiness all at once. Yet, there was something that was itching. Itching me, in particular. I was over the moon ever since the engagement. We had a beautiful engagement party too. It was all decided, and I thought I was lucky to be with the man I loved. Yes, I loved him dearly, and I still do.
But the thought of spending my entire life with him seemed to bother me a little too much, than it should have. Well, to begin with, he was only my second boyfriend, who would soon be my husband. Nothing wrong with that. Some women are really lucky and don’t have to go through a long list of guys to decide, right? I found my true love, my knight in shining armor, and the man of my dreams. So, why was there any hesitation at all?
I couldn’t answer this question that popped up in my mind every now and then. I knew I wanted this, but there was still something totally amiss with what was happening.
I had done most of the things girls wanted to do before getting married.
Going on an all-girls trip. Check.
Having (several) girls’ night outs. Check.
Image source: Google, copyright-free image under Creative Commons License
Volunteering at an earthquake affected area for two weeks away from home. Check.
Swimming with the dolphins. Check.
Skydiving. Check.
So, yeah, almost everything was done.
I knew how this would all look, say five to ten years from now. We’d be happily married, we’d take vacations to breath-taking locations, we’d work our butts off to save and buy a house, and soon, we’d move upstate and buy a beautiful house. Then we’d adopt a dog, after which we’d have kids. I imagined us having fights, but I knew we’d make up and get together instantly. That would go on until our kids turned 18 and then became rebels who would want to move out. Soon enough, we’d be spending our time in a retirement home. And that was that!
Wow. My whole life summarized into a tiny paragraph. Yes, that was it. I couldn’t bear the thought that my life would become monotonous without any space for drama, spice, or anything out of the usual and ordinary. Nothing was wrong with that, and I knew many women who’d trade anything to get this life of mine.
Image source: Pixabay, under Creative Commons License
But, I had to put this feeling away. This feeling nagging at me to do something stupid, just to add something lively to my life. So, I set forth.
A day after my bachelorette party, my best friend and I went out for a drink. Like she said a hundred times that night, “one last drink before everything changes.” And so it was exactly what she said.
Suggested read: My husband’s best friend was hitting on me, and here’s what I did
It was my last drink with her, and then everything changed.
After we ordered our regular martinis and a few shots of tequila, we began talking about our lives, our passions, our friendship, and swore that we’d be best friends forever. We hugged each other and ordered a few more martinis until we were tipsy.
There were a few people at another table who were noisy, and looking at us girls, some girls from that group invited us for an ‘after-party’ at one of their apartments. If we weren’t as drunk, we’d have politely declined the offer and went our separate ways, but not that night. We were up for a ‘wild night.’ You see, this was ‘one last drink before everything changes.’ We obliged and were ready to do anything for this last drink. Both of us managed to stand up and walk out of the bar with this unknown group of people.
Image source: Pixabay, under Creative Commons License
A cab ride later, we end up in a swanky two bedroom apartment in downtown, an apartment that’s really hard to find and furnish the way it was. Anyhow, after a round of brief drunken introductions and awkward handshakes, the hostess, one of the girls from the bar, offered us some more drinks.
This new group seemed friendly. There were about six guys and three girls in the house who were equally happy as my best friend and I were. Seemed like they knew each other for a long time and did this very often. It felt strange in the beginning, but once they began playing music, people started dancing in the middle of the living room after moving away the fancy furniture to a corner.
One guy came over to us and introduced himself as the host’s brother. He was being nice, and a little later, another guy came up to us and spoke to us. I quickly forgot his name. It was irrelevant. But the irrelevant guy was making some lame jokes that were not even that funny, and each time he spoke, I was only looking at him and wondering ‘could he be the one,’ the one I want to have a last fling with before getting married.
It was insane for me to actually give that idea even a moment’s thought. But it itched too much, and I couldn’t stop thinking that this would be the perfect way to ‘change things.’
Image source: Google, copyright-free image under Creative Commons License
He seemed perfect, someone totally forgettable, not very serious, and someone irrelevant. What are the odds that I would meet him again? None.
It had to be him.
Anyway, he stood next to us, still making up some lame jokes, while the host’s brother was trying to flirt with my friend. All that drunken talk was now white noise to my ears. My friend was enjoying the attention, and I excused myself to go use the facilities. The irrelevant guy turned out to be a gentleman, and escorted me to the restroom, which was ensconced inside one of the bedrooms.
While I was inside, I fluffed my hair, put on some lip gloss, and sprayed some perfume on my neck. I had no idea why I was doing it. When I got out, he was still standing there. Even before my mind could think it through, I went over to him and kissed him. He didn’t hesitate either. That kiss was wild and passionate, and something I had never done before – kissing a stranger. Realizing what I had done, I pulled back and simply walked out of the room. He promptly trailed behind me.
Once we joined my friend who was now enjoying her drunk state and flirting with the host’s brother shamelessly, the irrelevant guy and I stood there awfully quiet. My brain was now processing what had just happened, but strangely, I wasn’t sorry I had kissed him. And he could tell that I wanted more. I could see that he knew it. There was no stopping.
Image source: Pixabay, under Creative Commons License
By then my friend also had hit it off with the other guy, and she wanted to go over to his place. I told her to carry on and said that I would go home. The four of us walked down the building together completely unaware of what had happened between the irrelevant guy and me. After they got into the cab, this guy and I headed back upstairs. It was like he could read my mind and knew what I wanted.
And we did it.
Suggested read: How I started dating again after my divorce
It all happened so fast and so passionately, I don’t even think I felt half of what was happening.. The sex was great, beyond great! It was fascinating! It was nothing like I had imagined, because it was better. I realized that this was the first time ever I had had a one night stand, with a complete stranger, with a guy whose name I hadn’t even caught. It was unemotional, meaningless, and wild. It was something every woman secretly dreams to have, with or without a committed partner. It occurred to me that this was the last time I would have been ‘allowed’ to do something like this. Or maybe I wasn’t allowed even now. But, what the hell. It felt great to break some rules.
I was getting married the following week, and this felt like one of the tasks that I had forgotten to do while I was still single. It was now done. It was over, and suddenly, that feeling of something being amiss disappeared. I had now attained a kind of satisfaction, knowing that I had done it all. A sense of fulfillment came over me. I was thrilled, yet satisfied. The feeling is beyond words.
It seemed like an item on my checklist. Now this was checked too.
One last fling before getting married. Check.
Facebook
Disqus
Google + 
