Sometimes we think too much #2

(allegra)

I had always believed that Love was a decision, not a feeling. I thought I could control my destiny, choose my fate, believe in my dreams and decide on a blissful future.

Faces. Look all around you. Don’t the faces all seem so nonchalant, so absorbed in their self interests, so bored with life, just walking pass you aimlessly, towards a destination that is not theirs? I used to watch these faces pass me by when I could still afford the luxury of a designer coffee. I need my mocha fix sometimes. It intrigued me how these faces reflect who they really are. If you are scheming, somehow there is that glint of the eye, or a mean streak that can be glimpsed, if you bother to look hard enough. I like people with poise. Not those hurried, scattered personalities who just walk quick paces without noticing their surroundings. Perhaps they hurry through life with eyes opened, yet seeing nothing at all.


I am like that at times.

When I am absorbed in a beautiful song, or when someone has occupied a place in my heart. Love – I had believed in it, yet it had let me down.

And with searching eyes, I was looking through the crowd for someone like me. Who saw things the way I do. A soulmate perhaps? It seems so contrived, but I do believe that one exists –or more than one, though from the way things seem to be, even one would be difficult to find.

It is always a surprise to me to find someone who could listen to my nonsense, or even bother to know me better. Yes, I fit the stereotype of a misfit – albeit with an angelic face. Apart from my long locks of raven hair framing my face, betraying my femininity, the rest of me is rather tomboyish, except for the figure, of course. I mean, if I had bothered to dress up, maybe show more skin, those lounge lizards and paperbag guys – men with the personality of a paperbag would come and offer to buy me more coffee, maybe. But anyways, being thin and almost hairless everywhere else, I am always freaking cold, so I am always decked out in sporty style, leggings paired with a thick blouse and over it, a parka. Comfort style for me. Nice too, most of the times.

So when we fell in love, idealistically, it was meant to last. But it started with an end.

I thought that if you do things knowing what the ending would be like, it would not be so painful. Like you had already anticipated it not to last, so that when it doesn’t, you can be nonchalant about it, and move on in a flash, or at least just savor the happy times and not the ones that tear you apart.

My favorite place to daydream, besides sitting by the creek with that designer coffee, is on the beaten path, along the further way to my house. There I can imagine that there are cute fluffy bunnies greeting me at every wooded shrub corner.

There I can imagine I am walking hand in hand with the man I love.

There I can imagine that Mark is there, listening to me and offering me comfort like no one else could.

Comfort is so hard to find nowadays, isn’t it?

(to be continued...)