{this one is a personal one, really personal, it reads like a romance novel at first, but my blog, my stories....don't judge. It will be the first post where I use the word sex, you're an adult, relax}

I was flattered when he asked for my number, even more flattered when he used it. Tall, handsome, strong. We went to a movie, I wore stripes, he kissed me {it was mind blowingly good}, a few dates later he said I was, "adorable". Born and raised in Boston, he had a charming little accent.  We talked for hours, we texted a few times, we laughed about a lot, he kissed my kitchen burns, I was enjoying every minute. ....every minute until I had to put my money where my mouth is. We were just sitting down after a lovely dinner and he leaned in, kissed my neck, and then asked, "so when do I get to have sex with you?" He is irish catholic, I am Mormon. I thought he knew. "Um not for a really long time, I don't want to have sex again until I am married again." His face looked like I had just told him I had single handedly slaughtered his entire family, then taken his dog to the pound, only to be adopted by a family with 13 germy, misbehaved children. him:"Are you serious? You don't have sex before you are married? How do you even know if you like the person? Wait, you had sex with your ex before you married him right?" ..me:"No I didn't actually". him:"Well no wonder he didn't come after you when you left, you wouldn't let him touch you before you got married! {that hit like a wrecking ball} I think you are fascinating, lovely, a really wonderful girl, but I can't do this unless I get to have sex with you." I was waiting for the, "just kidding", the wink, the "gotcha" but they didn't come. He was serious. He just starred at me. "Seriously I can't do that, I can't this. I am here if you need me for anything, but I can't do this." He sat up straighter, he took his arm off my leg, his eyes changed. He turned cold. My hear sank, I felt all hot and panicy. I started to cry {I never cried before the divorce, now...oh I am a pro!}I felt like he just found out I had a very contagious skin eating bacteria. I thought every non-mormon in Utah knew. I felt completely responsible for not being crystal clear. This one was my fault. It had only been 2 weeks with him, but never the less, we had clicked. We just sat there, I tried to disguise my tears, he tried to mask his astonishment. me:"I am so sorry, I thought you knew." More was said, but in the end I left before the movie. I left a little crushed. I am not perfect, my life has not been lilly white, but that night I put my money where my mouth was and I was amazed that someone who I think I could have really liked and who could have really liked me, wanted nothing to do with me the moment he found out he wasn't getting sex. Sometimes I wear rose colored glasses, sometimes I turn a deaf ear to the things in the world that aren't ideal and lovely..... well this wasn't lovely and it hit me like a fog horn inches from my ear drum.  I am not ashamed of who I am but I am surprised that people who don't share my ideals sometimes see me as an oddity, a twisted-the-wrong-way curiosity. I am sure I am not the first to feel this way, I am sure he is not the first to react this way, but I really did  think it would be a little easier.