Three days.
Three days of texting.
No phone call.
No coffee.
No, "Tell me about your life."
No, "What made you who you are?"
No, "I'd love to hear your voice."
Just three days of light conversation.

This morning, I told him I had slept like a baby.
He asked what made it such a good sleep.
I replied that I had fallen asleep shortly after ten and slept straight through until six. Cozy. Comfortable. Peaceful.

His response?
"A good orgasm lol."

I laughed it off and redirected.
And then came the question:
"Are you a very sexual type person?"

And just like that, I was done.
Not because I'm offended by sex.
Not because I'm prudish.
Not because I'm incapable of flirtation.
Quite the opposite.

I am sexual.

But that's not really where my head is after three days of surface level texting and before we've even had a phone conversation.

What I'm looking for is simple:
Conversation.
Laughter.
Curiosity.
And the chance to hear their voice.

I'd like to believe that someone would want to know who I am before they wonder what I might do in their bed.

I've had my fun and I'm not talking about my twenties.
I'm talking about the years after my divorce, when I rediscovered myself, my independence, and yes, my sexuality. I've done casual. I've done chemistry without connection.
Been there. Done that.

What I want now is infinitely more interesting.
I want the phone call.
I want to hear your voice.
I want to know whether it's a voice I'd want to hear every day.
I want the coffee.
I want enough conversation to know whether there is something tangible between us before the innuendo begins.

Because attraction, at least for me, isn't diminished by connection.
It's created by it.

Resilience in Action: Holding onto your standards is not closing your heart. It's trusting that genuine connection and meaningful intimacy are still worth waiting for.

Call me. Meet me. Ask me about my life. Tell me about yours. Let me hear your voice. Give me a reason to want to share that part of myself.