For someone else, my experiences lately would be the stuff she’ll tell her girlfriends about—to gush over, to analyze every little detail, to celebrate. But not me. I cannot.
Females all wish for poetry and love and devotion, whether they admit it or not. And while I may be atypical, I am woman enough to be affected. I am woman enough to appreciate poetry and prose written about me. I am woman enough to be flattered receiving focused attention. (He asked to watch me sleep, darn it!)
But I am human enough to want to spare him from greater hurt. I am human enough to remember I have been on this road before, where I thought of myself first and caused so much damage. And this time, I’m strong enough to refuse.
Yet still, I have led a relatively lonely life, riddled with misjudgments, and no one thought me worthy of this kind of attention before. So every night I take a little taste, silencing the accusing voice in my head. I had been straight right from the start, I’d say. I never deceived him. He knows I cannot give him the kind of love he wants. And I remind him every time.
But is this right?
(photo from http://www.sodahead.com)
1 comment:
for friends who are wondering, the above is in response to this:
My Sweet Deja Vu
"Sometimes your nearness takes my breath away; and all the things I want to say can find no voice. Then, in silence, I can only hope my eyes will speak my heart."
She said goodbye. Again. Then she logged off. I was left with my laptop, a sweet and seemingly plastered grin, a sigh, and her face on my mind.
Another day, another chapter...of what I consider lately as my every day fountain of inspiration. Yes, a fountain -- quenching me with my thirst for affection...bathing me and washing off the day's frustrations and tensions...nourishing me with her brand of wit, humor, and wisdom. Indeed, she refreshes me...from head to foot, body and soul.
She came from my distant past...silently yet sweetly. For years we did not see each other. For those years, nothing existed except memories (...well, quite a handful if I may say so.). Now, five thousand miles separates us. And yet, we never felt so close...we never felt so "inseparable". My longing to be with her seems to grow day after day after day.
I don't really want to think that our pains bonded us. We just felt so connected...found ourselves so comfortable. No facades, no inhibitions, no nonsense. It's just us and our time together and our quest for happiness, for independence, for love (...well, sort of!). Every conversation is a joy, every moment is a pinch in my heart. Although I'm a hopeless romantic myself, it never occurs to me that I can be so open...so uninhibited when I'm with her (...though I'm totally smitten by her smiles and pouts! *sigh*).
As I went home and crash my bunk after a day's toil, I know that there's a message. I don't know how but I feel I'll see one...and somehow, I rarely miss. I don't want to go beyond what I see and feel but sometimes I sure wish we can go beyond what we have. But not quite. I don't think so. For a couple of being who shares a lot of things in common and appreciates each other's time and presence, I guess it's already a blessing that she was there and she caught me when I was falling so hard for somebody else but that somebody was never there.
Again today, I'm starting my day in six hour's time. By then, she's up and half way through her toxic day, too. Later this afternoon I'll hurry home looking forward to see her. Again, I'll be looking forward to another two hours of smiles, giggles, sighs and wishful thinkings. Across five thousand miles. So long as brother Time gives us the chance, I will remain smiling and thankful that I have her.
When she bid me goodbye again and log off, I will be left with my laptop, with a sweet and seemingly plastered grin, a sigh, and her face on my mind.
And for sure, I'll be looking forward for the next day.
“You’ll never know when you’re about to meet someone really important. It’s not that life gives you a warning; you just look up and there they are.” — Ted Mosby
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