In cast, on the couch, against all the odds…
My gentleman caller was the spirit of gallantry and good breeding. Such impeccable manners, a true gentleman. From the Levant nonetheless. My experience with gentleman from this part of the Middle East is not exactly a pleasant one, but I decided to bury the hatchet and try once more, maybe, and besides my gentleman caller was such a sweetheart in the realm of cyberspace, that I had to give in and indulge.
Now, making me a wonderful breakfast, attending to my every need, and engaging in such interesting conversation with someone worldly and accomplished what could anyone ask for more than that?
But if this was a perfect situation I would not be writing a whole blog about awkwardness, right?
I wasn’t sure if I should try going out again after my last episode. I was still in limbo, and my feelings, something inside still felt sore, tender in a way. A slight aggravation and it hurt. I did go on a date last week, which was beautiful. But I would be lying if I said that I was ready. I liked to fool myself into believing that I was. That it was fine to go out again. But its not.
Here I am, with a broken foot, in cast, on this gentleman’s couch, against all the possible odds, and ice cold tears run down my face while I am kissing him.
Ice cold.
It felt like my body only registered that something was wrong much later. Something was dead, or broken, for sometime, and my body just held up, froze, like it was putrefied, and only now it was time to get rid of it.
And those tears were not bitter. Nor painful. It was such a surreal sensation. Crying without any visible alteration either in my state of mind or facial expression. But oh tears were streaming down my face. And for the life of me, I could not tell what was so wrong that actually made me cry. And cry in such a strange way.
In my mind, it was over. People make their choices, and if they choose not to be with those they care about, then I am at peace with that. If my Taurus trickster decided to stay in a relationship out of convenience then I am fine with it.
I bear no ill will, I want nothing, and as far as life goes, I do not regret my choices. There are certain things I do not understand. And although this has wrecked my metaphysical inner peace, I surrendered and resigned my self to its fate.
And I thought this resignation will bring me peace, but it did not, obviously.
There was part of me still mad, resentful and restless. Wondering, why, if it was not meant to be. Why?
And I couldn't answer those questions as I sat on the couch in this stranger's apartment while he was trying to kiss me.
And I couldn't explain why there ice cold tears streaming down my face when apparently nothing was visibly wrong with me.
Not that he saw the tears, I was clever enough to wipe them before he actually took notice, but something was definitely getting in the way.
I was not present, I could not be wholly present with this person. My heart and mind and soul were still terribly afflicted by my recent ecstatic experience.
My gentleman caller sensed that in a way. He sensed that I was holding back, that something is "blocking" me. His interpretation, however, was that I am not interested enough in him.
And for him that was enough reason not to try to pursue me any further. It was enough reason to kiss me on the cheek and send me off home.
And to be honest I was relieved to be sent home. I was exhausted trying to pretend that I can actually date and see other people and when it was so obvious that my heart and mind were still elsewhere.
I tried. I tried to move on, literally, move, against the odds of a broken leg, a broken heart and a broken spirit..
Now, making me a wonderful breakfast, attending to my every need, and engaging in such interesting conversation with someone worldly and accomplished what could anyone ask for more than that?
But if this was a perfect situation I would not be writing a whole blog about awkwardness, right?
I wasn’t sure if I should try going out again after my last episode. I was still in limbo, and my feelings, something inside still felt sore, tender in a way. A slight aggravation and it hurt. I did go on a date last week, which was beautiful. But I would be lying if I said that I was ready. I liked to fool myself into believing that I was. That it was fine to go out again. But its not.
Here I am, with a broken foot, in cast, on this gentleman’s couch, against all the possible odds, and ice cold tears run down my face while I am kissing him.
Ice cold.
It felt like my body only registered that something was wrong much later. Something was dead, or broken, for sometime, and my body just held up, froze, like it was putrefied, and only now it was time to get rid of it.
And those tears were not bitter. Nor painful. It was such a surreal sensation. Crying without any visible alteration either in my state of mind or facial expression. But oh tears were streaming down my face. And for the life of me, I could not tell what was so wrong that actually made me cry. And cry in such a strange way.
In my mind, it was over. People make their choices, and if they choose not to be with those they care about, then I am at peace with that. If my Taurus trickster decided to stay in a relationship out of convenience then I am fine with it.
I bear no ill will, I want nothing, and as far as life goes, I do not regret my choices. There are certain things I do not understand. And although this has wrecked my metaphysical inner peace, I surrendered and resigned my self to its fate.
And I thought this resignation will bring me peace, but it did not, obviously.
There was part of me still mad, resentful and restless. Wondering, why, if it was not meant to be. Why?
And I couldn't answer those questions as I sat on the couch in this stranger's apartment while he was trying to kiss me.
And I couldn't explain why there ice cold tears streaming down my face when apparently nothing was visibly wrong with me.
Not that he saw the tears, I was clever enough to wipe them before he actually took notice, but something was definitely getting in the way.
I was not present, I could not be wholly present with this person. My heart and mind and soul were still terribly afflicted by my recent ecstatic experience.
My gentleman caller sensed that in a way. He sensed that I was holding back, that something is "blocking" me. His interpretation, however, was that I am not interested enough in him.
And for him that was enough reason not to try to pursue me any further. It was enough reason to kiss me on the cheek and send me off home.
And to be honest I was relieved to be sent home. I was exhausted trying to pretend that I can actually date and see other people and when it was so obvious that my heart and mind were still elsewhere.
I tried. I tried to move on, literally, move, against the odds of a broken leg, a broken heart and a broken spirit..
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