Friday, March 11, 2011

Emails and Cocktails

Where to start...hmm, where did I leave off? Well, first of all, please know that it was not intentional, the months of neglect my poor little blog has suffered. While at sea I discovered that my netbook, which was a going-away gift, had a trial version of word installed which, when it expired, locked not only the program but all of my documents as well. Seriously, who does that? It's not like you didn't KNOW I was spending the next few months in the middle of the OCEAN! Oh well, I digress. So I have given you a few tales from my shipboard adventures and there are more to come. And I gave you a teaser of my summer/fall escapades but with no details at all. And now, everything is once again different. So I am forced to jump around. That's ok, I'm a multi-tasker.

So, the time has come to talk about my newest love. It feels funny to even say that, as things have already progressed past the point of no return and we are now into the, "but we'll always be friends" stage already and I haven't even gotten to the good stuff. But the funny thing is, the good stuff is really good. Not scintillating. Not selacious. Instead, just kind and unexpected and well, confounding.

It all started out innocently enough. Isn't that always how these things go? We would go out after work, usually in group settings and somehow end up in a corner talking, laughing mostly, sometimes for hours. And it was easy and comforting and I didn't have to worry because he was happy in his bachelor life already, I thought. It was like we shared this private joke all the time, even if we didn't say anything out loud. We would go on the grandest of adventures and meet the most interesting people, all without going much of anywhere or doing much of anything. I have met few people in my life who could make the mundane so delightful; my best friend is one, he is another.

That's how it started. Well, sort of. It's not like we were strangers before, but always when we worked together, we knew eachother only peripherally. I don't think we'd ever had a proper conversation before. So things started slowly and quietly. But, as is the way in my world of course, out of the ordinary. One night we went out for fun and got into a club for free. They were charging cover, and I just plain didn't want to pay it. So I started to leave, and they waived us in. And we had an amazingly innocent and unpredictable time. And one time, we got caught in the rain. Actually, this was the first night when we really ended up talking about anything personal; just the two of us. We ran through the the downpour to shelter and I sat watching the rain light upon the streets while I sipped a martini and told him my life story.

It's funny how these things develop. Occasional outings and emails. All the time, completely naive of where we were going. I think that's part of what made it so special. There wasn't an agenda, ever. Sometimes, I still look back at those early emails, sublime and ridiculous and lovely.

So what happened? Life happened. My leaving happened. Many things happened. For the briefest of time we were able to maintain an existence together, completely off the grid and without hurting eachother or anyone else. But then the reality of living apart and in the real world came rushing back.

So why did I do it? What was the attraction? It is inexplicable. Nothing about it seemed to make sense and yet, week after week, there we were getting closer and closer. Truth to tell, at first I thought he was just messing with me or testing me somehow for some weird sociology experiment. But he was kind and smart and funny; at times I felt so awkward and off balance and tongue-tied. And...he loved me...for exactly who I am. No, I didn't believe him either. I mean, I don't even love me for who I am. But he actually loved me exactly the way I am, his words. And that is something worth holding onto. But of course, I couldn't.

"Two lovers meet in relative darkness. Everything falls away. The world turns a blind eye and there is only skin and breath. The universe can but forgive an act of such pure necessity. A pretty dream, from which they hope to never wake. But then the moment is gone and the world comes rushing back. They part as strangers. Until the next new moon. And the dark.
That is what he did for me, brought strength and love and poetry back into my world. Showed me that I don't have to be afraid all the time and that sometimes things don't work out the way we hope, but they might still work out the way we need. I have realized over the past couple of years that I am a muse on earth inspiring people to figure out what they want or need or crave. And I have mourned the fact that I had none. I think for the first time in a long time, I might be wrong about that. I am inspired; even if I am alone again.

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