|quote du jour:
"If you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, the needs of others, your work, meeting new people and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you."
She said that she didn't like to cross the street alone... and so we walked from the bar, across the street and to my truck hand-in-hand like school children. I led her to the passenger side and unlocked the door for her. For so very brief of a moment, we stood there and looked at each other. She leaned toward me and we kissed.
It'd been just more than four months since I'd seen Christy before last Wednesday night. It was the week of Valentine's Day. I dropped by her apartment unannounced and gave her a copy of her favorite book -- The Giving Tree -- with my own message written inside:
"No love, no friendship can cross the path of our destiny
without leaving some mark on it forever." - Francois Mauriac
Four months of random phone calls and botched plans to meet -- the longest game of phone tag ever -- followed until last week. Christy called and admitted that she'd made a mistake when she agreed the two of us shouldn't date. We made plans for last Wednesday night.
I was supposed to finish a 36-hour shift at 7 p.m. and meet Christy at my apartment at 8 p.m. Well, the afternoon was busy with runs. Then, there were reports to be written and equipment to be returned to service. I finally left work at 7:45 and pulled into the parking lot at my building -- still sweaty and probably swelling just a tad funky -- at 8 p.m.
It was good to see her. Really.
I showered & dressed quickly and we headed off to the Olive Garden for dinner. We'd long since agreed that she owed me a meal. I'd bought dinner the night we decided not to date -- and no man should have to pay for a meal that comes with a dessert like that.
The Olive Garden was disappointing. The food wasn't cooked as long as it should have been and it was lacking a bit of flavor. To top it off, our waiter had the personality of a dung beetle. Actually, that might be an insult to dung beetles. But the company... Well, the company certainly didn't disappoint. It was as if no time had passed at all.
Sitting here four days removed from that night, I can't remember one thing that was said at dinner. It really felt as though the conversation didn't matter all that much... It just felt good to be hanging out with her.
With dinner thankfully behind us, I took Christy to a nice piano bar in an upscale part of town for about an hour. She made the mistake of asking what was good. Or, rather, the waitress made the mistake of suggesting a chocolate martini. Two chocolate martinis for Christy, two Bud Lights for me and a $20 bar tab later, it was time to go.
Christy said that she didn't like to cross the street alone... and so we walked from the bar, across the street and to my truck hand-in-hand like school children. I led her to the passenger side and unlocked the door for her. For so very brief of a moment, we stood there and looked at each other. She leaned toward me and we kissed.
On the way back to my place, we sang loudly to the radio, barely avoided an accident and had a really good time. At my apartment, she requested I play some music -- I obliged with a bit of jazz followed by some more modern pop -- and she turned out the lights. For the most part, we hung out on my unmade bed talking... and kissing... for an hour or so until it was time for her to head home.
Just as they had so many times before, our eyes met several times at the restaurant and at the bar... And each time, I got lost in hers. When that happens, I don't just look at her. It feels as though I'm looking into her. Some sort of connection is made and it's a connection that I can't explain other than to say I don't feel it with many others.
The thing is, I'm not sure that Christy & I will ever by much more than friends. I love to be with her, but it almost feels as though we're just a few degrees out of sync with each other. Everything sails along nicely for a while and then suddenly, it seems that one of us is left wondering, "huh!?"
Surprisingly, I'm not going to waste this space with over analysis of what it all means. Maybe later... but not now. It's not necessary yet. This was just one night out after four months of separation. It doesn't have to mean anything yet.
"Don't think, it can only hurt the ball club."
Copyright © 2003, Thomas Fletcher. All Rights Reserved.