Thought's of a Mad Man

After a moment of deep shame and regret, I gathered up my things quickly and I headed for her building. I had no idea how I was going to do this. I don't know her name, I don't know what she does. I may not even be able to get past the front desk. I might not even be able to catch up to her. What am I going to say? ‘Hey, there's a lady who sits across from me at a picnic table, I need to talk to her. Do you know where I can find her?’

I get to the doors of the building and I see her in the lobby. I got lucky and she was detained by someone talking to her in front of the elevators. I walked towards her and she noticed me when she glanced around. She didn't look all that happy to see me.

I waited patiently for her to finish her conversation with the man that was talking to her. By their interactions it looked like she knew the guy pretty well, but was immensely annoyed by him and really didn't want him even in the vicinity of her. It was that obvious. It was damn near painful to watch. But finally she found an opening in the conversation that she was able to excuse herself. She pointed towards me and I felt a twinge of happiness that for a second time I was able to help her escape the clutches of a clueless simpleton who couldn't take a hint.

Although, it did cross my mind immediately there after that maybe she felt even less inclined to talk to me than the guy she was so obviously repelled by. ‘Oh shit. This might have been a big mistake,’ I think to myself.

She comes over to me, and though she noticeably didn't want to talk to me, she at least didn't flip me off and tell me to take a long walk off a short pier.

“Listen. I'm sorry for what I said…”

Then I froze. I didn't know what to say after that. The words seemed to catch in my throat and I went blank. I tried to think of something else to say that was genuine and meaningful, but all I was left with was awkward silence and her not impressed with what I was saying. ‘Awe fuck it. I'll just wing it.’

“You know, as humans lately, we have forgotten the basics. We try to be original and think that we know better than those who came before us. But all we do is fuck things up and make them overly complicated for no reason at all. Which, all that means is, I wasn't using any manners. I was lashing out wanting to strike first, to be the one to reject you and drive you away before you had a chance to use reality against me. And if I had remembered to use my manners I would have realized that maybe I didn't need to be such a jerk. And I'm sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said with timid solace. “But you didn't have to come here to apologize.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to. I've enjoyed our lunches together and I didn't want my big mouth to ruin that. I brought a bazooka to a conversation and I fucked up and pulled the trigger when I shouldn't have.”

“You surprised me honestly. I was shocked more than anything. I've never been the one to be turned down before. Usually I'm the one telling people I'm not interested or that I don't want to be bothered,” she said.

“Well, truth be told, I normally would never have said that. Today's just a bad day for me, and I kind of lost my temper,” I said with a small chuckle to myself, feeling a little bashful from the honesty.

“Well, if I am to be honest. You were right. I did mean that you would make someone else a great companion. It was an instinctive reaction that I always have of immediately rejecting someone and then thinking afterwards. It's become so second nature to me that I was shocked when you pointed it out to me. And then I was knocked on my ass when you told me you weren't interested.”

I had to smile from her view of the events. She was being light hearted and the conversation was actually a pleasant one now that we were really being honest with each other.

“Yeah, well… Normally I would have taken a different tactic. I would have tried to be witty and unique and charming in a beauty and the beast sort of way. I would have tried to make you see the qualities of who I am. Hoping against hope, praying that you would see through the physical appearance to the prince buried within. Yadda yadda yadda. Getting stuck in the permanent friend-zone. My heart being crushed yet again. Until one day when you would come to me and tell me that you have finally met someone. He's wonderful and great and though he's not everything you have wanted in a mate, he still makes you happy. Enough. And I end up taking a long walk off a short pier.”

“You really don't believe in fairy tales then. Do you?”

“Oh hell no. If the Beast was real, today, in America, no one would even know that fucker existed. His little flower would wilt and die and he wouldn't even get a tricker-treater coming to his door. Hell, even the furniture and other what-nots would have packed up their shit and gone to live with the ice princess bitch in the other castle freezing their little asses off because at least she's cute in a cold-hearted-bitch sort of way. And she still gets men climbing her long ass ice staircase to hit on her while she tells them to fuck off and die. Let it go. Let it go. Turn away and slam the door. I don't care what they are going to say.”

“OH MY GOD! Did you seriously just quote Frozen?”

“No.”

“Yes you did.”

“Did not. No.”

“You closeted little Disney Princess freak, you.”

The two of us had a good laugh together.

“You really are a judgmental little troll. Aren't you,” she said as we continued to have fun poking at each other.

“Yeah, but a really cute/hideously judgmental little troll, as trolls go. And besides, you're just pissed that this beast told beauty he's not interested. He's happy and content in his drafty, windy, wet tower of solitude and misery. And he's not coming down for anything,” I said with stubborn pride and delusionary ignorance.

“You're so full of shit. You know this right?”

“I won't tell if you won't.”

“Well I have to get back to work. So take that as you will,” she said smiling and happy.

“Fine. I've spent too much time out of my dungeon anyway. I will see you tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” she said walking away towards the elevators laughing and smiling.

“Is that a good maybe? Cause, I know a cute green ogre and a funny little donkey that can rescue damsels in distress from their ivory towers if you don't show.”

“You're crazy,” she said as she called back to me from across the lobby.

“Now who's being judgmental?”

With that, the doors to the elevator opened up and she stepped inside. I felt good that she was laughing and having fun with me. I had hope that she would come and have lunch with me tomorrow.

So I left the lobby of her building and I crossed the courtyard and park to my neighboring building where I spent my days in a dark dungeon of solitude toiling away on broken computers. From my window, I was able to look out at her building and wondered if maybe she thought about me at all. Then I quickly squashed that horrible thought of happiness that came from thinking about her and I buried my head in work.

The next day was another lovely sunny and warm day. Which fucking sucked. But at least it wasn't hot out as summer was finally behind us. I tried as hard as I could not to be eager to go to lunch. As much as I could, I tried my best not to think about it, but wound up thinking even more about it because I was trying so hard to ignore it.

When it was time, I gathered my lunch that I had spent a little more time on this morning to make it a little better than normal, and I headed to the bench. I sat in my new position waiting for her to arrive and hopefully sit across from me.

It was excruciating waiting for her to appear from the doors of her building. Time kept ticking away and she didn't appear. I couldn't stop counting the minutes on my phone that she might come out and come have lunch with me. I felt stupid, like I was being an idiot for letting myself be excited and hoping she would show up. But it was just as stupid to try and deny that I am who I am, and this is what I do.

Then I looked up and there she was, heading across the courtyard, coming right for me with her lunch. She was talking on her phone as she walked and I tried not to pay attention to her. But my heart leapt in my chest knowing that she was not mad at me.

She sat down across from me and said goodbye to the person on the phone. She put her phone down, pulled out her gourmet health meal, and without even looking at me, said “This doesn't mean I forgive you.”

“You just remember that I dumped you first,” I said looking at my phone and not at her.

We spent the rest of the lunch hour not saying a word to each other. It was silence and tranquility and a wonderful break from our busy day. And she looked particularly beautiful today.

“What are you looking for in a woman?” she asked me with nonchalant interest over her bite of vegetables.

The day is testing me. I know it. I can feel it in my bones. How the morning started out with me grumpy as can be and wanting nothing to do with the day. Then work driving me mad with nonstop people coming into my office. Now she’s asking me this. I could just spit in her salad.

Since that day when I sat across from her and made that guy go away, she and I have sat across from one another eating our lunches at our customary table. Sometimes she'll start a conversation with me. Sometimes we'll just sit in silence eating our respective food. But never have we ever talked about anything personal before.

“Yeah. I'm not answering that,” I said as I continued to scroll through profiles on my phone.

“Oh come on. Why not? It's a legitimate question.”

“Because it has misunderstanding and other problems written all over it.”

She didn't like my answer, but she didn't argue back. She just watched intently as I continued to scroll through profiles aimlessly without seeming to give any interest in what I was doing.

“A typical guy. You don't even read them. You just look at the pictures and nothing else,” she said as she took another bite of her food.

“What?” I asked, confused as to why she would say that.

“You scrolling through the profiles. You're just looking at the pictures. You're not even reading the profiles. You're making judgements based on looks and nothing else. That's such a typical male thing to do.”

“I'm not looking at their pictures,” I said.

“Then what are you doing?”

“No. No. Go back to what you were saying. Calling me a pig and a typical male asshole that only judges women based upon their looks.”

Though I was kind of annoyed by her comment, I couldn't help but smile and laugh a little at the conversation we were having. I know she wasn't trying to insult me or actually start anything bad.

“I didn't mean to say that you were…”

“A scum-sucking-bottom-dweller that only judges women based upon their looks and cares nothing about who they are as a person?”

She started to laugh at my response to her putter her foot in her mouth. “I didn't mean that,” she laughed. “But what are you doing?”

“I’m not really doing anything. I just scroll through seeing if something catches my eye.”

“What's something that might catch your eye?”

“Sometimes it's a name. Sometimes it's a smile. Or sometimes it may be a location they are from. Just random things that happen to catch my eye,” I say.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“You don't write to them or say hello or anything?”

“No,” I say with no thought about who any of these women might be. “I mean, sometimes I might read their profile if I think it might be interesting. But I don't message them.”

“Why? Why don't you say anything?”

“What's the point? They're just going to ignore me. They might read my profile or something, but they never write back,” I tell her as I continue to flip through my phone.

“You don't know that. What are you saying that's causing these people to never write back?”

“It's not about what I say. I say the same thing any gentleman might say: Hello, how are you? I read your profile. You seem to be a very interesting person. Would you like to have a conversation with me? Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. It's about what I’m not. Which is a typically handsome, wealthy guy with six-pack abs and enough brain cells to hold a 5 minute conversation.”

“A 15 minute conversation! Thank you,” she said laughing at my description of what women look for. “And you know, we don't all look for that.”

“Oh yes you do,” I said in total disbelief of her comment. “I've been sitting at this table for a little over 3 years now. And you've been coming and sitting here at this table for about 10 months. And in that time, I literally cannot count all the men that have come and hit on you. And you haven't given even as much as the time of day to those men because they are not that Hollywood Dream Boat kind of guy.”

“That is totally unfair!”

“Hey, I'm not judging. I would have told every single one of those idiots to hit the bricks too if I was an attractive woman such as yourself. But the fact of the matter is, those men were all attractive, very self-assured nitwits that didn't fit the mold I outlined.”

“And what makes you think I’m looking for that stereotype?”

“1) You are a very attractive women. And this day in age, you have to work at it to be attractive like you are. Which means you expect the person you are with to work just as hard as you do in order to be attractive. Fair is fair. 2) You have very nice clothes. You obviously do not go shopping at Old Navy looking for the bargains because money is tight. Which means, not only do you have an appreciation for the finer things, again, you expect him to be able to afford a better lifestyle and not be some bum in K-Mart shorts. And 3) If any one of those guys had come up to you and said something original or interesting or half way funny, you might have talked to them. But they didn't. And you responded accordingly. Which means that you are looking for someone who's educated and intelligent, which not only allows them to have the finer things in life, but gives them the ability to be more creative and witty when meeting a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

“Ok, A) Stop judging me! And B) … Shut up!”

I could see that she was both impressed that I was able to deduce those things about her, and laughing a little and still having a good time. Which means she wasn't offended by what I had to say. Which made me feel good. She had a sense of humor about herself and that she was a lot more grounded than I gave her credit for.

“I don't mean a person is bad for wanting those things. I don't do any of those things that you do to take care of myself, but I still have my standards just as you do. Which means everybody is looking for something. We all have our fantasies.”

“Then I ask again,” she said. “What are you looking for in a partner?”

“That's just it. I'm not looking for anything. I just like to scroll.”

“Oh come on. You just said, ‘Everybody is looking for something.’”

“I'm not everybody,” I said trying to restrain my laughter, knowing I am purposefully being difficult.

“Oh, and I am? I'm so typical that you an figure me out in a heartbeat?” She asked.

“Typical? No. No way. Special? Maybe. But maybe I'm just that good,” I said with a cocky nod to myself.

“If you're so good, then why didn't you ever try to ask me out?”

“Because I'm not an idiot. I know when I don't even stand a chance. I might be funny and witty, but I know when I am out classed. And you are WAY out of my league. You should be with someone way better than I ever could be.”

“I don't know. You're handsome. Not bad looking. You are funny and witty. You make me laugh a little. And you certainly are not typical. That's for sure. I've never had anyone tell me they aren't good enough for me before.”

“No. No,” I said cutting her off. “For someone else you mean. I'm good enough for someone else. You mean I'm good enough to be your friend. But that's it. We would never be anything other than just friends though. Well, no thank you. I enjoy our lunches together, but I'm not looking for a friend. Thanks, but no thanks.”

This last comment of mine kind of hurt her feelings a little bit. Maybe if I was paying a little more attention I would have caught it. Maybe I would have not said it, or at least been kinder about it. But I was too busy being an ass and I didn't notice it.

She didn't say anything to me after that. She ate her lunch, gathered her things and left as she always does, a few minutes before one o'clock. She headed back to the same building she came from, where I have deduced that she has a corner office on the third floor of the 10 story building. It wasn't until I saw her walking back towards her building that I realized I had said something that hurt her feelings. Because she left without saying goodbye.

‘You need to make it up to her. You need to apologize to her,' I thought to myself. ‘You need to catch up to her and say you’re sorry.’

She's gotta be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.  I don't think everyone would agree with me, but that's how I see her.

I don't know who she is, but I spend an hour a day with her: Monday through Friday, noon to one. It's probably been a few months now. Sitting at her end of the table, me at mine. I used to sit alone, content to have the solitude. But now, she's become a silent partner in the middle of my day. A kind of sharing, if you will, of the escape from our nine to five.

I've never talked to her. I have no idea if she even knows I'm here; I wouldn't blame her if she didn't. And this arrangement suited me just fine. I'm no idiot. I know there are types of people that I'm not one of. And oil and water just don't mix. But recently, with the weather getting warmer, she has begun to shed layers, exposing more of the appealing flesh underneath.

This has caused two problems in our unspoken agreement to overlook and omit one another. The first of which, she makes it nearly impossible for me to keep my eyes, and more importantly, my thoughts to myself. Temptation of the woman makes it very difficult for me to keep my mind on other things as my head often fills with thoughts of her curves and beautiful sensual body. But this is forgivable, as it's not her problem that I find her so attractive. A little bit of discipline and I can usually refocus and think of other things.

But it's the second problem that is harder to ignore. As she is more exposed, and thusly, more appealing, this has caused men to start coming over randomly and interrupting what used to be a wonderful, tranquil spot to relax. And these morons, these barely ape-like creatures with half a brain cell, never get the picture when she tries to dismiss them with a polite rebuff. So I'm forced to listen to her come up with a hundred different ways to say, "No thank you. I'm not interested." I have to hand it to her though, I run out of patience for these mouth breathing idiots far sooner than she ever does.

And as much as I feel for her, because she's just trying to be herself while going about her own business when these bipedal pigs come traipsing along disturbing her, I have nearly come to the point to where I have started to feel it necessary to either find a new place to eat, or that she must. On one such day, when I am feeling particularly short tempered and completely not in the mood to deal with said walking, talking dickheads, I took it upon myself to do something about it.

It was a particularly warm summer's day and she was wearing a light cotton dress that seemed more like tissue paper blowing in a breeze than body coverings. The dress, the sandals, the way her hair seemed to float on a breeze that I only imagined, all gave this woman an air of angelic beauty that warmed a cynic’s heart.

From her purse she pulled a Tupperware filled with fresh vegetables and other grown wholesome foods, which made my bologna sandwich and chips look just pathetic. She's sitting over there, a picture of beauty and health, smiling and content as she looks to her food, all the while I sit in my mental storm cloud of misery while eating the very definition of “given up all hope.” It was a day I had exhausted all my patience dealing with blustering management when I saw it coming. Some cock-sure dude with more testicles than IQ points come walking across the park, headed directly to her. I mean, do these guys have some kind of GPS guiding them to her or something?

The guy wasn't even to the table and my blood was starting to boil. And I knew that if I didn't get rid of this asshole quickly, I was going to blow my top. And that would have made her feel bad, and I didn't want that either. So I quickly gathered my lunch and slid over a little so that I was sitting directly across from her. She looked up from her lunch with inquisitive eyes that seemed shocked that I had done such a thing. My presence across from her stopped her in her tracks as I looked back into her deep pools of blue and green. Then, before this stranger got to the table, I spoke.

“And Mark and Janice were wondering if we would come over this weekend and barbeque.”

The poor girl was stunned. She had no clue what I was talking about, or why I was even sitting across from her saying these things. But before she could gather her thoughts and ask what in the hell I was doing, the stranger came up to the table and stood silent next to her.

She turned her head with a mouth full of food and looked at the man who was staring at us, more her than me. I looked up at the guy and quickly added, “Can I help you?”

The guy didn't say anything in return as he froze for a moment, smiled and then walked away. The lady before me watched as the man walked away not even looking back. Then she looked at me and understood what had just happened. She quickly covered the smile on her face with her hand and said “Thank you,” with a mouth full of food.

I didn't say anything in return. I merely picked up what was technically a sandwich and continued to eat as she and I enjoyed the peace and quiet of the hour before returning to where ever we come from when we are not on the bench enjoying our solitude and tranquility.

That is until my brain started shouting at me, ‘why in the hell didn't you say anything back? You moron!’

Have you ever seen an abused animal? Seen how they act around humans? It doesn’t matter if you were the one abusing the animal or not, they look at you with those untrusting eyes and they just say “stay away.”

The courage it takes to learn to trust someone again. The time it takes to learn someone and understand them. And in the back of your mind are the memories of what’s happened in the past. And one little misstep, those memories come flooding back in a rush and wash away all that trust you worked so hard to build.

Now, you have to double your efforts, you have to double the amount of courage it takes to try again. And it’s not easy. Because you are going against your own instincts. You are going against the lessons you’ve learned and you’re opening yourself up for more of the same pain that you already are so full of. And you’re putting your faith into something that you don’t believe in: trust. Trust that one time, one day, it won’t happen again. That knife won’t stab you again. That pain won’t flood your heart again. That anger won’t sweep in and fill your mind with red and blind you to the fact of something being a simple accident.

But for humans, this process can be even more difficult. Because we are aware of the choices we make. And we may ask ourselves, are we making the right choice by trying again? Are we really being courageous? Or are we being stupid for making the same mistakes? And I’ve talked to a lot of people who draw hard lines on this issue. Many of whom who will not allow others the opportunity of harming them again. And you see it, you see that look in their eyes. That look of not trusting, of being hurt.

Communication can be the answer to this problem. Finding a way to break through the walls and just being able to have a dialogue. Thinking about all the worry, all the pain and all the fear that can be avoided if we could talk it out and be able to express what it is we are feeling and what is going through our minds. But we have become a culture of protecting ourselves, of building walls to keep others at bay. And I cannot deny that it’s for good reason.

But what do we do when we find that right someone? How do we know how to let someone through our wall when we don’t give them a chance to really communicate with us? When we ourselves don’t open up and tell others the truth of what it is we are thinking and feeling. How can there be honesty when two people only speak in half truths. What is the price we are really paying for not talking to someone and telling them how we really feel? And is that price greater or less than the price we pay for maybe being burned one more time?

I don’t know.

~ This never happened. It’s a complete work of fiction. But I was thinking about it and I thought, man, wouldn’t it be cool if it did happen. ~

Tonight I was at a club. It’s one I've come to before, but don't always like to be at. It’s always busy, the music is normally really good and the drinks are the best. But it's not the kind of place I fit in.

Tonight I was having a pretty good time. Like a ghost among the living, I went relatively unnoticed, but still enjoyed just being in the crowd. Then a woman caught my eye. I spent a considerable amount of time watching her, looking from afar, content to admire her with no desire to talk to her. She was a very rare and beautiful woman, especially for a place like this. And so of course I was intimidated by her. I nearly felt like a stepped on puppy just looking at her.

Normally the crowd here is much younger than me. Since they don’t make a good night club for… older people, especially any kind of club I would ever want to visit, I find myself coming here most times and just simply sitting in a corner. I feel content to just enjoy the sights and the music and go unnoticed.

But this woman, this woman was unbelievable. I had tried several times all night to ignore her so I didn’t feel like some kind of creep gawking at her. But I always found myself looking back to her. She was my age, professional, refined and highly enigmatic. Her dress complimented her well. It’ wasn’t made to give others a free view of her body like so many other women’s dresses in this place. It was dignified, classy and obviously very expensive. Her hair was also fantastic, alluring and added so much to her beauty in an understated way. The way she held her drink showed she had manners, some sort of social education and upbringing. The way she comported herself had and air of refined etiquette.

If anyone was far too good for a place like this, she set the gold standard. Which made me crazy with curiosity as to why she was even here in the first place. Alone of all things. And all night long, good looking men, men in suits and with flashy jobs and cocky attitudes that normally got them any woman in the place, would go up to her. And within only a moment or two they would leave, head hung low and shoulders slumped as she gave them nothing, not even a millimeters worth of interest. One, after another, after another, men were being shot down by her. It was a massacre. She was leaving dead bodies behind her like a nuclear war. And yet, I didn’t get the sense it was because she had some kind of shitty attitude.

Then I saw it. It was for the tiniest of instants. The only way I was even sure I saw what I saw was I had to rewind it in my head and play it over and over again. But it was real. It was there. This woman needed help. Not a single person saw it. The fact that the drink she had in her hand never touched her lips. Not once. The fact that her eyes never stopped looking towards the door. The fact that she probably never heard a single word any person has said to her the entire night. And it was compelling to me that this poor woman needed something, and she might be under duress.

It was the only reason I even got up from my table and went to her. If it wasn’t for that revelation, I would have never in my life even thought of talking to her. I’m not that insane. She was shooting down guys way better looking and more confident and wealthier than me. I never would stand a chance with this woman. I’m not so naive as to think I stood a chance with her and wouldn’t immediately be shot down by her the second I approached her.

I made my way to her from across the room. I tried to move quickly through the crowd. And when I got to her, I simply stood before her. I didn’t say anything right away, or do anything. I made myself stand tall and straight so she would feel my intimidating presence before her. But I made no move towards her. I let her adjust to my standing there, subconsciously accepting my authority over her as I dwarfed her in height and stature. When she finally made eye contact with me, she bit her bottom lip as she looked up at me. I slowly and gently leaned in and whispered into her ear, “What is a little girl like you doing out so late without your Daddy?”

She instantly jumped back in shear panic. Her face went flush as she felt the headlights bearing down upon her. “How did you know?” she asked.

“Small things. Things you come to recognize over time.”

“Well, he wouldn’t like it if he saw me talking to you,” she said as she looked around the room and back towards the door. “You should go.”

“How late is he?”

She looked back to me and didn’t say anything.

“Has he called or texted to say that he’s running late?”

Again, she said nothing. She only looked me in the eyes with a sorrowful look on her face. And there it was again. The same look on her face that caused me to get up and come over.

“Let me guess, this was a first date? A first meeting? You met him online and…” I didn’t have to keep going. The tear beginning to form in her eye told me everything I needed to know as she quickly wiped it away.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

“No, I can’t go. He may show up…”

I put my hand up to stop her from talking. I kept my hand up and I didn’t move it. Then I touched her chin to get her attention and to focus on looking into my eyes.

“He’s not coming,” I said quietly and gently. “I’ve watched you for over three hours now, turning away men left and right. You never once checked your phone, so I know he never texted, never sent a message. Which tells me he’s not coming. It also tells me that he’s not a very good Daddy if he’s left you here all alone and couldn’t bother to even let you know he wasn’t coming. But I think you know that already. I think that’s what the tear was about. So come on, let’s get you home.”

I didn’t ask her permission. I didn’t wait for her to give it to me. I simply took her hand and I began leading her to the door. She followed behind me holding tightly to my hand. I stopped at the coat check desk, and she retrieved her coat while I took my cell phone out and called for a cab. When her coat was given to her, I took it from her and held it out for. I could tell she was accustomed to having men help her with her coat, the way she turned and extended her arms so I could slip it on and over her shoulders.

I once again took her hand and held it as I lead her outside. I told her I had called for a cab. She didn’t respond as we passed through the crowd of people still waiting to get inside. We got to the curb just in time for the taxi to pull around and meet us.

I opened her door and I let her in first, then I slid in next to her.

“You don’t have to…”

She was trying to be polite, as well as possibly trying to get me to leave her alone now that she was in a cab. But I stopped her from saying anything and asked for her address. She reluctantly told me and I repeated it for the driver.

The cab drove off and we sat quietly for a few minutes. Then she asked me how I knew back there. I turned to her and smiled.

“My wife, who passed away several years ago was a little. She and I were together since we were kids. We went to school together, grew up together and got married right out of high school. She and I discovered the lifestyle together. And I could always tell when she felt little and took on a persona of innocent youth. I don’t usually stare at people, but I was watching you tonight and I saw it. I recognized it and I could see you felt like you were in trouble. So I wanted to help.”

She didn’t say anything in return. She just simply watched out the window as the city passed us by. She kept quiet the whole time we took the ride across town to a wealthy suburb. The taxi stopped and I asked him to wait for me. I then got out of the car and held the door open for her as she slid out. Once again I held out my hand for her and I helped her to her feet.

As she walked to her front door, I didn’t say anything as I waited at the taxi. I just wanted to make sure she got inside before I left. She put her key in the door and opened it, then she stopped and walked back to me.

“Thank you,” she said as she stood in front of me looking in my eyes.

“You’re welcome. I hope you kick his ass if you don’t mind me saying. Someone like you deserves much better and he really screwed up tonight.”

Of course I wanted to say he was a pathetic dumbass of monumental levels for disappointing a woman like her. But I didn’t want to offend her, especially not knowing their history.

She reached into her purse and she pulled out a small business card. She bit her lip again as she looked at it and thought a moment. She then handed it to me. “I wouldn’t mind if maybe you called me sometime and we had a coffee or something?”

I smiled as inside I felt so very honored by her asking. Shit, I practically wanted to do cartwheels. But I kept my cool, I took her hand and I kissed it.

“I would love to.”

She smiled and went back to her home. She waved as she shut the door and went inside. I got back into the cab and left for home looking at her card.

The simple touch of my hand on her arm made her jump as I stood behind her. My body so close to hers that I could feel her anxiety. In my fingertips, as they lightly touched and traversed her arm, I could feel her trembling.

She stood not moving as I looked at her long straight black hair falling between her shoulders and along her back. I memorized her curves, the way her legs disappeared underneath her short cotton skirt. The shape of her butt and hips. My hand followed along the small of her back as I began to circle around her, staying close to her, looking down on her as she couldn’t reach my height even in her thick souled shoes.

My hand moved up her opposite arm with another light touch. It caused her skin to shiver and goosebumps raise all over her body as she visibly shook for just an instant. Standing in front of her, she was putting on a very brave face, trying not to give away her apprehension as she bit her lip.

I stepped to her and she instinctively stepped back away from me as she tried to look away. But I said nothing, did nothing as I waited for her to slowly step back towards me. When she did, she refused to look up at me, and I had to guide her chin upwards so that I could see her eyes. She looked at me with fear, the kind of fear when a woman is afraid of disappointing the other person.

I took the back of my hand and I gently rubbed her cheek as I looked into her eyes. I could feel her begin to melt into my touch as she began to accept it’s comfort and pleasure. She closed her eyes as my hands moved across her skin. I took my fingers and I began to touch her lips, and instinctively she parted them in agreement to me having access to her.

I let my hand move from her lips, over her chin and down her neck. A vulnerable place for a woman as it shows trust to allow a mans hands to be around it. As my fingertips slide to the side, moving lightly around to the back of her neck, my palm slowly laid flat on the side of her neck with my thumb strategically on the side, and not in front.

I could feel her take a deep breath in as she accepted my touch once again. She gave me further consent to keep going as she leaned her head away from my hand so that I had more access to her body. With my hand I pulled her into me, pressing her body against mine as I leaned down and kissed her lips.

The faint silk like touch of her kiss was more than electrical arousal as it sent waves of desire through me. But this was a practice in patience on my part as it was learning to let go of herself on hers. To let go of her fears, let go of her inhibitions and surrender to my will. And I would have to move with deliberate restraint if I was to gain her submission.

I took a firm hold of her neck with my hand and I took the weight of her body into it as she learned to lean into my hand rather than away from it. With this giving of her body to my hand, I used my other hand to run along her shoulders, between her skin and the strap of her dress. It took a moment for her breathing to calm and for her to relax, and as she did I slipped the thin little string over her shoulder and let it drop down on her arm.

In my other hand I could feel her standing on her feet once again. She was trying to take back her own weight as apprehension once again washed over her body and I could feel myself losing her as she every so slightly pulled her neck away from my hand.

I paused once again as I waited for her to relax. I let my light touching of her skin go to work as I eased her back into a state of relaxation and acceptance. Once again, when he breathing relaxed and she leaned back into my hand I kissed her, rewarded her for her submission. Our kiss caused her to open herself and I could feel heat beginning to build inside her.

As we kissed I ran both of my other hand around her neck and into her hair. As my fingers parted and combed through her hair, she began to breath heavily between kisses. Her body nearly began to gyrate against me as I slowly took control of her through deliberate touches of her head. When she lifted her head out of my first hand and began to rub and caress it against my other hand, I took a hold of a large fist full of hair, gently yet firmly. She acquiesced to my forceful hold of her as I began to kiss her cheek, her ears and then down her neck.

A slight, quiet moan escaped her as she began to breath heat and passion from within her. As she focused on my kissing and my hold of her hair in my hand, I slipped off the other strap of her dress and she barely even noticed. Then my free hand began to caress and touch her shoulders with free liberation to enjoy her.

After a moment of kissing and letting passion ignite, I stopped and I took a step back. She was no longer trembling and fearful, she was excited as she bit her bottom lip and looked at me with desire in her eyes. I then walked around her once again, this time to the back of her as I gently moved her hair to the side. I slowly slid down the zipper on her dress, and with a simple breath it fell to the floor, revealing all of her to me.

All day long I felt so excited to see her. The anticipation of feeling her kiss, feeling her arms wrapped around me and her body pressed up against me has been causing me to want to spit at the clock and through a rock at it for going so damn slow. And it may have been a mistake, it may have shown my own failure to control myself, but I couldn’t wait any longer and I decided to go to her two hours early.

I got in my car and I drove to her house. The entire drive I worried that maybe I should wait, maybe I should play it cool, and I should exhibit my ability to control myself, but I couldn’t. Because no matter how much I thought I should turn around, I kept going until it was too late.

I pulled into her driveway and I had one last moment of worry before opening my door and getting out of the car. What was I going to say to her for showing up two hours early? How was I going to play this one off? Say that I wasn’t paying attention?

But I didn’t get as far as halfway to her door when it opened, and my adorable, amazing woman came running out of the house and nearly leaped into my arms. She threw her arms around my neck and shoulders and began kissing me as if it had been months since we’ve seen each other. I put my arms around her waist and I lifted her off her feet as I returned her passionate kisses and playful child like enthusiasm.

“I take it you’re ready,” I said in between kisses, trying not to laugh at her silliness.

“Yes!” she said as she squeezed me even tighter kissing me on my cheeks and neck.

“Well, we can’t. That’s why I’m here, to say that I can’t go and play today. I got called into work and I won’t be able to take you out.”

Immediately she stopped kissing me as she looked in my eyes like I had popped her balloon.

“What? Why?”

“Oh, some stupid thing. The office caught on fire and half of the files were destroyed. They need me to come in and remake the files from memory.”

“You’re kidding me?” she asked with a dead emotionless disbelief look on her face.

“Yeah, actually I am. I just wanted to see what you would say.”

“You jerk!” she said, as she pushed herself out of my arms and slapped my shoulder.

“Yeah, I know, but you still love me.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Nu Uh!” she said, then she stuck her tongue out at me.

That was all the invitation I needed in order to let lose and really let her have it. I reached out and began to tickle her frantically as she screamed and jolted like a rabbit. Just like that she was running for the house and I had to catch her before she could shut the door.

I took off after her and I managed to cover the distance right behind her as she ran into the house, around the couch and into the kitchen where I had to contend with the center island between the two of us. She was all smiles and laughter as I tried to dart to the left and then back to the right to catch her off guard. Which didn’t work. So I tore off around the island as quickly as I could and we were both off through the house and then back outside where I was finally able to catch her and pull her off her feet as I swung her around in circles.

She screamed and laughed and I felt so elated to have her. We were together and we were excited to be with each other and nothing else mattered. We kissed again in the middle of her yard and we hugged and we squeezed each other in order to feel closer to each other.

When we finished, I took her hand and we slowly walked back inside the house together. I escorted her past me and made sure she crossed the threshold before me. I then closed the door behind me and we went into the living room. There she stood in the middle of the room as I slowly walked around her, taking her in, absorbing her like the radiance of the sun on my skin on a hot summers day.

She smiled so completely and nearly bounced on her toes as I circled around her, letting my hand touch the small of her back, the slenderness of her arm and the softness of her hand as I took it into mine. I looked at her from head to toe, taking her in and viewing all of her in a way that pleased me. As I viewed her beauty, I saw her biting her lip in anticipation of my approval.

“You look beautiful,” I said as I looked her in the eyes.

I never complimented her without looking directly into her eyes. A gentleman should never compliment a feature of a women, he should always compliment the woman herself. And you cannot do that without looking her in the eyes. Something my mom taught me and I never forgot it.

“Thank you,” she said. Knowing she is to take the compliments I give to her and never try to dismiss them.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then come on. Let’s go.”

We walked to the door and I took her purse from the hook on the wall and I handed it to her. I took her keys from the basket and I made sure she had those as well. I double checked that she had her phone, that she was all set before opening the door and letting her walk through first. I made sure to close and lock her door for her before we left.

We then walked to the car where she waited for me to open the door for her. I took her hand and I helped her in before making sure she was safe inside. Then I nearly ran around to the other side and got into the car as I felt so excited for our day.

I took her to a local tourist trap near the beach, where we spent hours meandering from shop to shop. The whole time we were together I spent every moment I could watching her as she looked at all the many things. I watched as she picked out little knick-knacks, got giddy over little animal statues, awed over beautiful portraits and paintings and more.

I never let myself be more than a couple feet from her. I never let myself take my eyes off of her. I never let her worry about where I was, or what I was thinking. I never ignored a single word she said. And I never failed to take advantage of a moment where I could put my arms around her from behind, kiss her neck or ear gently, and squeeze her to let her know how much I adored her.

Later that evening, we sat on the beach. I leaned against a log in the sand, she sat between my legs with her back against my chest. I made sure the large fluffy sweatshirt I bought her this afternoon was keeping her warm and comfortable as my arms wrapped around her and held her tirelessly. She nuzzled her check against mine as we watched as the sun first dip it’s edge into the water. I felt so content in the moment that I wished it wouldn’t end.

We made sure to appreciate every second of the sun setting into the water, as the sky was filled with orange and pink and yellow. And as it said goodbye to the two of us, my wonderful lady held my arms which still held on to her, and together we held each other.

Once the sun had set, my lover, my friend and my everything dear to me moved out from between my legs. She made herself comfortable and told me to do the same. After an entire day of me taking care of her, she now began to take care of me.

I laid down on the sand and put my head in her lap. I looked up at her stunning face as she ran her fingers through my hair and caressed me. We talked about everything as I looked up at her looking down at me. I noticed the way her hair fell all around her face and shoulders as she looked down at me. I notice the way she never looked away from my own eyes as we talked. I noticed how she was every bit attentive to my pleasure at her touch as I was with her the entire day.

“You’re service to me today was perfect,” I said. “I couldn’t be more pleased with you. You let me admire you and appreciate you all day. You paraded yourself for me in such a way that I was filled with joy to know that you belong to me. You made me laugh, you made me smile, you made me oblivious to everything except you. And you did it all for me. And I can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

She continued to run her hands through my hair as I laid looking at her, hearing the ocean waves breaking on shore, and my heart overflowing with bliss.

I’m the kind of guy that stands on the outside edges of the crowd looking in. I used to think I belonged there, that I was most comfortable when I was unnoticed and alone. I’d lie to myself saying that I wasn’t lonely. After decades, a lifetime of standing beyond the edge of the crowd, Pink Floyd said it best: I have become comfortably numb. And I am doing it to myself again.

Today I have spent almost an hour looking at people’s profiles and doing nothing. I read several blogs from other people and I left no comments, no likes, nothing. I have allocated myself to the very edge of the crowd, where the shadows keep me hidden and I won’t let myself join in. Except for this one quiet call to the crowd hoping that someone might turn around and notice me.

I have a deep longing to join in. I feel myself wanting to leave the safety of the shadows and go mingle with everyone. But I can’t. Too much experience and hard lessons have taught me to stay out. To avoid being noticed.

So I strike stupid balance with myself. I tell myself that simply logging onto the site and reading profiles is me trying to be social. But it’s not. I tell myself that writing these entries is me talking to people. But again, I write to no one. All I do is write to myself and then give others a chance to read it. So again, I’m not really being social.

Because I feel dirty when I do, as if I’m doing something wrong by talking to others. I feel as if I’m giving away my deepest secrets by telling someone my name, or benign mundane details about myself. I dread the moment those small innocent pieces of information will come back to haunt me, just waiting for the moment they will be used against me. And it isn’t just a simple child’s fear, this is a monster size fear that has teeth. It’s bitten me before and proven that it can harm.

So I push myself into the shadows to stay safe, longing to reach out and leave this prison I’m in. Telling myself that I’m satisfied just being able to see the light through a tunnel of darkness. But in the back of my mind lies a tiny question: How far will I push myself away from people before I’ve moved so far away that I cannot ever come back again?

Then it hits me, I’m drowning and I don’t even realize that I’m not breathing. My head is slipping under the waves and I keep telling myself that everything is ok. Just stay where you are and don’t move. That I’m going to be just fine. That I’m not cold, I’m not alone and I’m not scared.

And I’m so far away from everyone that no one knows what’s happening to me. They can’t see what’s going on because I have removed myself to the point that no one knows I’m even there. And I don’t know if I can save myself anymore.

(Please do not try and give me sympathy or leave comments to cheer me up. That will only make things worse for me. But if you have had similar feelings yourself, or have a similar story, I welcome those kinds of comments. Thank you.)

Let's face the truth... admitting to others in a public forum that your human is the dumbest, worst, most moronic thing a person could do. I mean, let's be real. You're on a dating website to attract others and your pouring the worst parts about yourself to anyone that will listen in hopes that you can make someone notice you? Well, if that person does notice you, how are they supposed to think about you after you said all that in public?

So that leaves the question, then why am I doing it? If I think it's... scratch that. If I know it's such a stupid thing to do, then why am I putting all this personal, private, what's truely best left to myself and not telling others, things... out there onto public forums?

A couple reasons actually. 1) I have found that if I write about it and put it out there, it helps me to move on. Really, If I write about it in full and leave nothing unsaid, I won't write about it again. This helps me to move on and think of new things as I don't want to repeat myself. 2) And this ties a little bit into 1, if you just think about something and you don't get it out of your system, it just builds up and it never goes away. I've spent nearly my entire life holding in and suppressing things and refusing to truly open up to others and all it's done is driven me deeper into the abyss rather than letting myself heal, express it, and move on. 

So this being said, what stupid, idiotic, moronic and imbecilic thing am I going to do to myself today? Well, I’m going to admit to all of you my biggest weakness. Because today, as I was taking a shower, it popped into my head and I thought, “Yeah! That sounds like a good idea!”

 I am the type of guy that needs someone else in his life. Now, before you say that’s not a bad thing, just wait. I’m the type of guy who’s so much better when I’m with someone than I am without someone. And I absolutely hate that about myself. Because it was only a short while ago that I would say to myself that I need someone else in order to be happy. And though I no longer would say that about myself, the whole needing someone else in order to be happy thing, I am still the kind of man that is only whole when I am with someone special to me.

Why is this bad. Well because recently I have discovered that being alone has allowed me to start healing, to start being able to fix within myself all the many things that have done me such extreme damage for so long. It is also bad because it is the very reason I had made some really bad choices in my life. Such as I used to chase after women in order to make myself happy. Not in a typical men are pigs sort of way, but in a more pathetic and even worse way.

I chased after one woman for nearly 20 years. I was with the mother of my three boys for nearly 20 years, and the whole time I was with her I chased after her so hard, that I completely disregarded my own emotional and mental health just to be with her. And after 19 years, I finally got sick and tired of catching her cheating on me and lying to me non stop.

Because I was so desperate to feel whole and complete as a person, I lied to myself, I tortured myself, I changed myself and I denied every important part of who I am as a man and as a person in order to be with her.

A few years later, I am still the kind of man who is far better with someone than I am on my own. And I utterly, from a place deep in my gut, on a visceral level, hate that about myself. Because it makes being alone so much more harder and difficult than I can bare. Yet being alone has helped me to become stronger, more confident. It has forced to me deal with myself rather than run from myself. It has taught me to embrace who I am rather than feel I must change it to be with someone. Being alone has give me more than 20 years of chasing the wrong woman ever has.

And I wish I could say that I don’t want to be with anyone any more and really mean it. But I can’t. It’s a lie. And the one thing I cannot afford to do anymore is lie to myself. Me being with someone is like a care with more horsepower. I’m like a sailboat with wind in my sails, or a flower in the sun. I’m simply better with than I am without.

But it’s being alone that has taught me that to be healthy, I must not change what kind of car I am, I just need to understand I’m better with the other half of me working properly. I’m not incomplete without wind in my sails, but I’m moving forward and with such joy when my sails are full and pushing me along. I don’t need someone in order to be happy, I just am happy and more fulfilled when I am with someone. And none of this understanding or growth inside myself would have happened if I were with someone. Because I would still be chasing after people rather hoping to be loved, rather than being patient and letting someone special find me.

I wish I could really and truly be happy being alone. It’s healthier for me. Or at least it has been. But I cannot change this about myself. It’s like trying to remove the foundation from under a house. The house does not last without it’s foundation. But I can renovate it. And I can understand it. And I can accept it with new insights and new knowledge and I can do it better.

Today was a very interesting day for me. What I experienced today was amazing in it’s simplicity.

We all have stories about hitting rock bottom. What it’s like to land in such a dark hard place. And for me, as melodramatic as it sounds, I have lived my life from flat on my back, looking up from rock bottom these past several years.

I live with bipolar depression. A serious debilitating kind of depression that has destroyed my life in every conceivable, literal way. It has been a driving force that has caused me to lose more than I deserved to lose. And a couple years ago, it changed, for the worse. It ruined me financially, emotionally, socially and in every other way it possibly could.

But this isn’t a post about how bad things have gotten for me. This is a post about something good instead.

Today, for the first time in so very long, the fog lifted and I felt happy. Today I laughed with my children. I smiled and felt good about myself and about my day. Today I wrote so many little stories and let myself imagine things that I had suppressed within myself for so long.

Today, I even reached out and asked a woman to have a conversation with me. And to my surprise, she did. It was a little short lived as her own life was causing her to feel ill. But I talked to someone. And it was pleasant. And found myself hoping I could continue to talk to her. And then it struck me… I had hoped for something and I didn’t have a dreadful terrible response to it. I simply let that small bit of hope linger in the air like a butterfly on a summer breeze. I didn’t destroy it, I didn’t run from it and I didn’t hate it.

Today I had a good day. And it’s been such a long time since I’ve been able to say that. Even now, admitting it to myself feels strange. Like it should have never happened, but it did.

A part of me wants to dismiss it, saying it’s not going to happen again, don’t bet on it, don’t hold your breath. You know all to well the darkness of your life, that that kind of soul crushing emptiness doesn’t just go away. But another part of me wonders if maybe, just maybe, if some level of healing has started to take place?

I had a good day today. I got to experience some things that were so simple, so plain and ordinary for so many others, but meant so much more to me.