Friday, August 19, 2005

The Big Glimmer

The Glimmer

A few days ago, in a happy texting mood, and a need for affirmation from men, I sent off a few texts to a few of the men in my dating life, including one to Big. Nothing profound to Big, just a “hi, how are things?” as per norm, I didn’t expect to hear back, but wanted him to subconsciously remember my existence. I fear this may be a very sad statement to make, but its true and done.

All the regular males came beeping back with adulation and I was fully satisfied. Much to my surprise, a few days later, there was Big, with not one, but TWO texts, saying he was in town and how did I feel about getting together. HOW DID I FEEL? HOW DID I FEEL?!? I feel YES, I feel HAPPY, and I feel MY HEART BEATING! I feel I wonder how long have you been in town? I feel did you not call me as soon as you arrived here? I feel I shouldn’t text you back right away? I feel like I need to play cool! YES YES YES (I did wait an hour).

I went to the shrink. Yes, I did, I went to my shrink, $140/hr to get confirmation that I am truly neurotic and pathetic in scientific terms. Believe it or not, she likened him to a crack hit and I was a BIG crack addict (funny that shrink). I was going to take the euphoric hit and come crashing down into withdrawal. Have decided am truly a Big crack addict as knowing all consequences and potential self-destruction; I chose the drug over rehab.

Am skipping about the house gleefully, we’re meeting for a walk, dinner and miscellaneous unsaid activities. ☺ I am petrified he is going to call and cancel. My heart is a metronome threatening to spill out of my chest with the intensity of anticipation. I’m pushing all the negative thoughts into that nifty little black crawl space in my mind with the one-way glass, loads of time to deal over some Kleenex, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and Sex in the City reruns after he leaves.

So, we’re supposed to go for a walk, he suggests some unknown area of town and rather than feel non worldly, I Google it instead of asking him, then call sister for some helpful tips to sound knowledgeable, pull out restaurant guide to ponder dinner options in case asked for opinions. I am picking him up at his office, so want to come across as business-casual-elegant (because I do have a life), but also need to be walk-ready, and romantic-dinner friendly, and not cold. Is a bit of a conundrum as business-casual-elegant does not normally involve sneakers for walking. Decide to go with best impression first and consequence later, and don linen pants and fabulous Bebe top with nifty bows and ties, and orange heels. Pull in a lime green Coach bag, pop in not too tight Rock n Republic jeans, linen tank top, a smashing orange pashmina and a pair of XXX fashionable runners and my (embarrassed look) overnight case.

Did I fail to mention I have a 5am flight the next morning that I have sent down to same nifty little crawl space? Never mind suitcase needing to be packed, prescriptions needing to be filled and documents needing some tlc, BIG is in town, earth stops revolving around sun and begins to revolve around self-centered, non-committal male with no special feelings for me.

Am jittery, feeling ready to throw up, not wanting to pace, and down right nauseous waiting for him to come join me. Outside façade I must admit is cool, calm, sophisticated and elegant, that I am sure I take him a step back with my presence. Giggle, score! We kiss and the little birds dither about my head (note he kissed me, score 2), walking down to car he places arm around me, score 3. Feeling buoyed with an arsenal of I am she-woman we end up at his place to let him shower and get out of his work clothes and for me to slip from business-casual-elegant to chic, sporty, cute mode. End case, we end up steamily in bed for the next 3 hours, cute mode non existent, replaced by smoldering-captivating Aphrodite in DKNY lingerie.

I liken him to an on-off switch, when he’s with me the bulb is burning brighter than bright, illuminating me and everything in our little world and I know with intuitive confidence that I am not wrong that when he is with me I am his Venus. What pains me is his ability to switch it off, all energy gone, and no light between us till he flips that switch again. I’m not a switch, I am a far more sophisticated and problem plagued dimmer, I may contain the ebb and wane but the energy annoyingly lives there in continuous power saving mode.

Can I say that somewhere within me, I am hoping he will realize what there is between us and not fight it; this is why I hang on in this self-flagellating limbo. He has baggage; I have baggage, so much overweight baggage the charges are not worth taking the baggage with us. Perhaps should send down to nifty little crawl space too. After we unraveled and took ourselves into the shower with our stomachs grumbling, a couple of champagne cocktails on the waterfront with sailboats lighting up the sky and ferries chugging slowly through, we found our way to life, dreams and wants, and his fear of giving me any expectations and assumptions of him. In most unnatural a Big moment, he confessed to actually thinking of me and wanting me to come join him on his latest trip but could not get himself to ask or correspond for fear of giving me any expectations. What am I supposed to do, words of rebuttal are clamouring their way up my throat but I don’t want to close off this small chink in the armour. So I smile, treading delicately, a sliver of hope and a fission of pain all unraveling within me, not knowing where this is going, but it will need to end before it takes me too far down to recover and feverishly hoping he will see the light that is me before it extinguishes.

We end our night par for course, big wrapped around me caressing and cuddling, peppering kisses down my back and whispering his good nights and me wide awake, unable to sleep, staring into the darkness blindly, wondering if this truly is real to just me.




Note: alarm rang at 4am; I smashed it to pieces, spooned back into big and missed my flight.

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