jeudi, juillet 21, 2011

All I ask of you

I want to be flattered.

If I needed affirmation for my broken heart, this must be it -- isn't it?

It seems as though I'm talking to a new man every other day -- like a shortstop, I am getting good at fielding the bases one must run in between on the way to a meeting. Emails, phone calls, appointments for coffee.

Though most haven't sat across from me at a Barnes & Noble (yet), they seem to like to talk to me. I am polite. I am friendly. I ask questions. I don't talk much about myself.

I canceled a coffee meet n' greet this past week. Given four hours in which to work, sandwiched in-between driving kids to Newtown Square and Malvern, I decided I needed the time to work on a story.

Which was a wise choice. But it was also a fearful choice.

I haven't called to reschedule. He's a really nice person. We've had a few good chats. Yet I find myself feeling both emotionally spent by the strains of this summer, and afraid.

Is it worth investing the time it takes to know someone? Will the differences outweigh the surface things we have in common? Franchment, will a guy who seems normal turn out to be politically, socially or sexually crazed as a coot?

And beneath all of that, perhaps the most challenging question -- can I allow myself to trust someone?

And yet they continue to show up on the screen of this middle-aged mom. And I continue to act as though I'm thrilled to "meet" them -- even in a time when other pressures often seem to push me to the breaking point.

Under all of my skittishness and my dismissive posture, I must WANT to be involved with someone -- someone who will listen to me, know what he wants , have my back, see beauty in me.

Doesn't everyone -- want something that's real?

Most of us want someone who will be in there for the long haul, who will hold up a mirror to us, who will forgive us, even when he or she doesn't like what they see.

So I push on.

Tonight I got out to my house and mowed the lawn. It was already darkening as I walked on the trail around the elementary school. No one else was out to see the bunnies and watch dusk settle on the swamp. I forced myself to move a little faster -- off the deserted path, up on to the driveway, and towards my house.

As I walked towards the road, the song from "Phantom" came on my Pandora channel. Now, I'm not a huge Andrew Lloyd Webber fan -- but I do like this melody.

And as I went forward in the warm night, the wind ruffled my hair, and I noticed that, for the first time in a long time, I was smiling. And even (can you imagine?) singing....as though I really believed in love.

Love me, that's all I ask of you.

I might. I could, perhaps. I just don't know him yet.

And I won't, unless I allow myself to meet him.

Love me, stranger -- that's all I ask of you.



2 commentaires:

BigLittleWolf a dit…

You know - sometimes you need to take a break from it. When it all starts to run together and feel mechanical, the "yes" and enthusiasm that you want to bring to the task of meet-and-greet is just too much.

Too much time. Too much expenditure. Too much, with everything else there is to juggle.

It's not only time, it's timing.

(Peek at my past few posts - and the one called romance racetrack as well. I'm with you... the investment of time is huge and draining. And timing is also critical.)

Hugs.

Offcenter a dit…

Wise advice.

But this really is re-entry. For quite a while, I didn't care. I needed to recover a sense of self-esteem -- but the trust, that takes a lot longer to return.