Yesterday was not my best of days. And although there was only one thing that really went wrong, it feels something like one of my worst days.
Merri's back in Trinidad, after her many week trip to Europe. I saw her online and got so excited I was almost overwhelmed. What should I do first? Talk to her, of course. But what should I say? There were a million things. Too many to make sense of, especially since I still wasn't sure it was really her or I'd seen someone else and my desirer it to be her was so strong that it painted my perceptions. My perceptions are notoriously gullible, you see. And in particular, when it comes to emotions, it doesn't take much to pull the wool over my eyes.
But it was her. Certainly. And if it wasn't, it was a good enough trick to be worth the embarrasment. Most of all I had to give her the good news: That ne way or another, i would be seeing her this holiday season. I would see her, she would see me, we'd both be happy people for it. For weeks now I'd been playing out the scenario in my mind. I'd be waiting, perhaps at baggage handling, looking nervously through the crowd of Christmas travelers for a familiar face, and she would weave through, unseen except for the brilliance of her smile, her skin, her radiant hair. My heart would weaken, but my muscles would have to be ready because here she comes, leaping in to my arms. I hold her to my chest firmly and we kiss brightly, both of us fighting back tears.
Yeah. that's the kind of shit I think about. At least, when i comes to her. there's a constant soundtrack playing in my mind, mostly passionate strings in notes that reach the heavens. The things I do or sa are much more mundane. Much less impressive. Its much harder to be romantic in practice, I think. So, I open up the conversation with the most romantic thing I could think of at that moment: 'Hello my Darling.'
For long time there's othing. An intolerably long time. Long enough for the same mind that had us swirrling in an airport while the camera pulled away from above, to think the worst. To see her seeing my message, and before she can respond she's playfully yanked back into bed by her other lover.
I don't take pride in thinking this way. She'd probably scold me even doubting her. But that's just what I think.
Eventually she does respond though. She say 'Hey' and it makes my heart sink. The conversation that follows is equally troubling. The fact that there was a perfectly reasonable, acceptable excuse for her being aloof and distracted (She was likely tired having just gotten back home. Likely frustrated with her mom and dad fighting. Likely disappointed that I hadn't found some way to get in touch sooner, etc.) doesn't make things any better. It makes them a bit worse, in fact. We've become mundane. Just something that exists in the back of the mind. The ache in our hearts and the back of our minds has become so common place that we've forgotten about it. Its probably not true, but its a possibility.
Its also a possibility that I'm the only one who feels this way. Not knowing is the worst thing of all.
Merri's back in Trinidad, after her many week trip to Europe. I saw her online and got so excited I was almost overwhelmed. What should I do first? Talk to her, of course. But what should I say? There were a million things. Too many to make sense of, especially since I still wasn't sure it was really her or I'd seen someone else and my desirer it to be her was so strong that it painted my perceptions. My perceptions are notoriously gullible, you see. And in particular, when it comes to emotions, it doesn't take much to pull the wool over my eyes.
But it was her. Certainly. And if it wasn't, it was a good enough trick to be worth the embarrasment. Most of all I had to give her the good news: That ne way or another, i would be seeing her this holiday season. I would see her, she would see me, we'd both be happy people for it. For weeks now I'd been playing out the scenario in my mind. I'd be waiting, perhaps at baggage handling, looking nervously through the crowd of Christmas travelers for a familiar face, and she would weave through, unseen except for the brilliance of her smile, her skin, her radiant hair. My heart would weaken, but my muscles would have to be ready because here she comes, leaping in to my arms. I hold her to my chest firmly and we kiss brightly, both of us fighting back tears.
Yeah. that's the kind of shit I think about. At least, when i comes to her. there's a constant soundtrack playing in my mind, mostly passionate strings in notes that reach the heavens. The things I do or sa are much more mundane. Much less impressive. Its much harder to be romantic in practice, I think. So, I open up the conversation with the most romantic thing I could think of at that moment: 'Hello my Darling.'
For long time there's othing. An intolerably long time. Long enough for the same mind that had us swirrling in an airport while the camera pulled away from above, to think the worst. To see her seeing my message, and before she can respond she's playfully yanked back into bed by her other lover.
I don't take pride in thinking this way. She'd probably scold me even doubting her. But that's just what I think.
Eventually she does respond though. She say 'Hey' and it makes my heart sink. The conversation that follows is equally troubling. The fact that there was a perfectly reasonable, acceptable excuse for her being aloof and distracted (She was likely tired having just gotten back home. Likely frustrated with her mom and dad fighting. Likely disappointed that I hadn't found some way to get in touch sooner, etc.) doesn't make things any better. It makes them a bit worse, in fact. We've become mundane. Just something that exists in the back of the mind. The ache in our hearts and the back of our minds has become so common place that we've forgotten about it. Its probably not true, but its a possibility.
Its also a possibility that I'm the only one who feels this way. Not knowing is the worst thing of all.
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