Friday, October 4, 2013

The Door

It's been days, if not weeks, since I saw you last. Since mid September, since I saw you again after thinking I'd never see you again, after thinking "this time was for real, you no longer existed in my life," I saw you, briefly, as if you never existed, you came and met me at a hotel, we spent a couple of hours together, and you had to leave. I was left alone in the hotel room, getting dressed, getting ready for the series of other events. I thought, "how could it be? You were here, weren't you? How come I did not feel your coming and going? How could I not feel?"

I did feel, I felt a slight melancholy, a sense of you not being really there, a sense of you wanting nothing to do with me, but then you did. I couldn't tell what it was that I wanted out of you.

I wanted nothing. That was what I told myself. I appreciated what you brought to me, out of me, rather.

The truth was, I did not know what I wanted. I thought that I wanted only sex, I could have sex anywhere, with anyone, but I did not.

I thought that I wanted an adventure, I did not.

In the end, I wanted love. I wanted to be loved and to love. To give everything that I could give, to be folded into that person, to become one with that other person.

It was you, it could only be you, because you made me the person I was, and you gave me what I wanted out of life. I was alive once again.

I never knew there was another door. I thought the door led to a closet. I had no idea it led to stairs. It gave me another way out. I couldn't stop thinking about it, in part I was shocked. That morning, after you had left, I slept, I was feeling ill, I was always so elated when I was with you, and I needed time to come back down to earth.

"Don't wear heels in the house." I remembered you telling me. I answered, "Of course, you have people living downstairs."

That evening I was sick. I was sick whenever I was with you. I understood what people meant by saying "love sick." Truly for once I understood what love sick was. I was always sick and feeling dizzy when I was you. My body reacted to you in an irrational, sadistic way. It created enough of anxiety that it would torture me to death, a slow death. I fetched for my pills. I had those inside of my purse now in case of emergency. There in delirium, I saw your unlocked computer, with emails opened, broadly, as if you did not care for me to read it. To browse through it. I didn't care either. I really didn't care. But that level of trust was unseen before.

Then in the morning, as you left and gave me instructions on how to exit, I realized that you had entrusted me in ways I was not entrusted before. You allowed me to linger in your place at your absence. You had not worried about me snooping or finding out what you were like outside of our interaction. I did not snoop, I did not care to find out anything at all from you. It was not important, you were important, I was not going to care what you did before or during our interactions over the last two years. I didn't care because I was certain of one thing. I loved you.

I wanted a future with you. I told you that the world was a better place, my world was a better place with you in it, you told me the same. I believed you this time.

I would leave everything behind, to be with you. It was that plain and simple. I had never heard you ask me that in addition to my physical body, you needed something else. You needed my heart. I had never heard you say that because I thought we did not reach that level of intimacy.

When you told me all those places you needed to be in October. I was worried that you were too busy for me, to see me, and I was resigned to think that was my life anyway, but then you said, "I will be back in between. I will see you, you know that."

I was no longer a young woman. But I had never experienced this level of feeling before. I had never been loved or loved anyone like this before.

Every part of my being was overly sensitized. I had never wanted to know this before, but you told me once again you did not want to be with another woman. You only wanted to be with me. You said that you just wanted to be with me. I did not know if you meant it, or if you were just telling me to make me feel good.

I had been to the other side, I didn't like it. I was better suited to be in a monogamous relationship. Because, as it turned out, my heart could only be given to one and one person. It was always going to be you.

I wanted to ask you if there was a future of a sort, of the two of us together, for the rest of our natural lives. You said that one of the reasons you were attracted to me was that I let you do whatever you liked. I was not like that with other men. I was always ready to be taken by you, to engage in a sexual relationship with you, because you aroused me like no other. I could not eat or sleep when I was with you. I just simply wanted to be with you.

Where did we go from here on out?

I did not know the answer, but I was encouraged by the alternate door.

What if we did not have to make a choice? What if we just decide on the next step together? Why couldn't we give it an earnest try? Didn't we deserve to be with the person who was designed for us?

What would it take for us to make a drastic change to our lives?

What if you could open the door to your heart, just slightly more, and invite me in? 

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