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2002-09-01 - 6:33 a.m.
When he is sitting at my dining room table in the late morning light, his hair mussed
with little curls, his chest bare and his glasses snugly settled onto the bridge of his nose,
when he picks up his cup of coffee or plucks at the keys of his computer while sitting at
my dining room table in the late morning light, he reminds me of a superhero at rest. Like
a Clark Kent taking a coffee break and checking his e-mail.
And when I am sitting at my dining room table in the late morning light, my hair
mussed with soft curls, my chest bare with my robe tied around my hips like a wrap
around skirt, sipping my coffee between sighs while watching him intently I feel like a
decadent movie siren at rest. Like an Lana Turner sipping coffee after a long, sensuous
night between the sheets with some strapping lead man.
When he is here I have no doubt that I will spend the rest of my life with him, there is
a wave that crashes over me, warm and undulating, caressing every nuance of my being
with a languid sigh of content. When he is here my smile finds way from hidden corners
of my emotion, my eyes feel suddenly clear, soft and calm. When he is here I can do
nothing more than look at him, at any given moment I am looking at him because he
amazes me, and I cannot fill the need within me to have the vision of him locked within my
mind. I want to touch him without rest, I want to place my lips upon his and never break
the seal. When he is here every movement I make is beautiful, every second of time seems
as though it is a moment honed and created by an artist. I can step within a beam of
sunlight and see myself through his eyes, my skin kissed golden, my eyes a glow, my hair
on fire with light. With him here I forget that I am scared of sharing life, I forget how my
life without him was so near perfect, when he is here all I can remember is how much I
want him here always.
And then he leaves. That’s when my rational thought takes over and I begin the
torture cycle of my heart, somewhere within me is a girl who is slightly jaded, slightly
wary and extremely terrified by the thought of having a boyfriend. Which is what he is I
guess, that is what people now refer to him as, my boyfriend, and I know that people in
his world refer to me as his girlfriend. And why should that be so difficult for me
to swallow? I have no problem admitting that I am in love with him, I will tell you five
thousand times a minute that I am in love with him, with no falter in my voice I will tell
you that. But I cannot say he is my boyfriend and I cannot call myself his girlfriend. I
cannot admit that. I don’t have a desire to be with anyone else, I will not go out with
anyone else, I will be faithful to him, but I cannot call myself his girlfriend. This bothers
me. Until today, today I finally analyzed the situation enough so I understand my
reluctance.
I am scared to fall into normalcy with him. I am scared to lose my beautiful moments.
I am scared of the day when he no longer seems like a superhero to me and just appears to
me as a man who is sitting at the dining room table without his contacts in. And I’m
afraid of the day I no longer feel like a movie siren when I’m sitting across from him. I
want to be in love, I want passion, unending passion. I want the beginning phase of a
relationship to never end and I will not accept anything but that....not this time. I am
scared that if I call him my boyfriend we will settle into something comfortable, and then
eventually we begin to get annoyed with one another, just little things. Then one day he
will complain to his friends about how I never let him do this or that and I will complain to
my friends that he never does this or that. Suddenly the beauty in our love will dissipate
and we will just be comfortable together, a ray of sunlight will no longer make me feel
beautiful because I won’t be able to see myself in that way in his eyes.
This time I am not going to let that happen. The moment “You’re amazing,” becomes,
“You’re crazy,” I will end this. The moment that we become that bitter, resentful couple I
will end this. I am not high maintenance, I will never ask him to take the garbage out, I
will never demand anything of him...except that he feed me beautiful moments and
romantic interludes on a daily basis. I want my favorite parts of each day to be the time I
spent with him. I want to be one of those couples that still holds hands at ninety, I want to
be one of those couples that smiles softly at one another across the room. I don’t want
him to ever question why he is with me, or ever think to himself, “Maybe there’s someone
else out there.” I’ll do my part to make sure that never happens, I just hope, because I am
going to let go of my fears, I am going to give this a chance, that he will do the same.
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