Monday, September 27, 2010

Just Say The Word

The gentle notification sound alerted me at 11am. I saw the sea green light in the corner of my eye. I was anticipating a witty reply to my earlier text to my soon to be married best friend; however, when I went to check it, I was met with a most wonderful surprise.

It was Lucy.

I blushed, I felt my heart skip a few beats faster, I managed a smile.

::hugs::

Simple. Beautiful. I could see her smile through the text.

I wasn't expecting to hear from her - especially since she's off camping down South somewhere. Camping, I have assumed, with the guy she's seeing. I'm not certain, but I think it's a fair assumption.

Of course it's not good to look too deeply into anything, especially texts. But it's very hard not to, considering our connection; considering the intensity of our last two letters between each other. We essentially (myself perhaps more so), unmasked our feelings for one another. We put ourselves out there, naked, fearing the response. We took a leap of faith.

For Lucy, the wait time for a response from yours truly needed less than a day. Perhaps it was a bit over eager to reply so quickly, but I knew I could not stay silent. I needed to say what I needed to say. I became the cliched, overplayed John Mayer song.

You'd better know that in the end, it's better to say too much then never say what you need to say again. Even if your hands are shaking and your faith is broken, even as the eyes are closing do it with a heart wide open.

I don't regret my instant reply. I'm through fearing and over analyzing, particularly when it comes to matters of my heart. Lucy and I have something extraordinary and while it's not ours, it potentially could be. Of course, I will continue to go about my routine and look after myself. I will not settle on this. I will make every attempt to go out any meet other women - especially since my schedule these days gives me a bit more flexibility. I do feel a visit to the Village is in the near future. I hope it's ready for me, because I am more than ready for it.

It was I who had to stew in the silence, to marinate in it. It was painful at first, but fortunately work picked up towards the end of the week, as it does every week. Of course, I would be lying if I said I were at complete ease with everything I said in my last letter. I was far from it; I was a wreck. I think I reread my letter (especially the parts previously mentioned in an earlier entry) at least 10 times. I feared the silence, but I also held onto a quiet belief that my words were warmly received. That it was Lucy's trip that kept her from responding. Even still, confessing, bluntly, that you think you have something beautiful with someone already in a relationship is an unnerving experience in itself.

Sea green - a color that has always managed to calm me, restored the calm today. Restored the churning waters to a steady, strong current.

Naturally, I had already started a letter last week that laid out how I hope my last letter wasn't too much. I discussed how I had no intention, whatsoever, to reek havoc on her present relationship. I said I didn't think I could live with the thought of ruining someone else's relationship - especially someone who I cared about. The letter went on to say how I wanted to continue our talking, our sharing of hopes and dreams for our lives, careers etc., that I still want her to visit me in New York - all of it that involves getting to know Lucy even better. To make our connection even stronger. I concluded the unsent letter with,

What I do know amidst all of this, is that as ridiculous as this may seem or sound, I cannot imagine my life without you - especially with this connection we share.

We texted for a short period of time today. I wasn't expecting much. However, in that brief time I learned that my letter wasn't too much, that none of my letters are ever too much. Ok. I'll take this, but I won't believe it until I read Lucy's next letter or when I hear her say those words to me. I won't believe it until Lucy looks into my eyes and tells me, that my words didn't cross the line. I won't believe it until we can both sit across from each other at a dinner table and say that is friendship for now - a friendship unlike any other, with incredibly beautiful potential.

The more I type those words, the more I realize, I am almost writing myself a script - for a silent mantra, a repetition, to keep me focused, to keep me realistic, to not let the whimsical, passionate side of me get caught up in the idea, in the dream. I need to continue to remain focused on my career and perhaps even more important to focus on is the fact Lucy is unattainable.

For now.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Connection and Comfort

I have to breathe aloud now and then to remind myself that I am still there. At least that's how it's been since last night when I read Lucy's dizzying, albeit wonderful e-mail.

Lucy. Oh Lucy. You have rendered me speechless and yet all I want to do is give you words. When I mustered up some words, they came from my heart - my every fiber of my being. I wrote cautiously, yet sincerely. I noticed how much my hands were trembling as my fingers ran across the keyboard.

Our e-mails aren't e-mails. They're letters, beautifully written letters - words that dance on the page, that strike a chord or chords within you. They trigger your mind, captivate your soul and overtake your body. Your letter from yesterday will forever be a part of me.

I had to reply in some form and I did. Now there's silence - a silence I knew would be coming due to a trip Lucy is going on for a week. But I thought more than once today, I wonder if she read my letter. I wonder what her reaction was to my words. I wished she would simply text me to let me know that she had read it, but would write more later. I could only be so lucky.

Lucy told me that she feels comfortable with me and loves the powerful connection we have. And we truly do have this. It's undeniable. I can feel it with every letter I get from her, I felt it the moment we met in June. Lucy managed to draw me and I am completely hooked. She went as far as to say,

'I won't lie that the strength of the connection I feel with you (coupled with how comfortable I feel around you) makes me think that being in a relationship with you would be a good thing in my life. And if I were free to pursue one with you, I would be. But I am also happy in the relationship I am already in. Though I know I could be happy with you too.'

I still get dizzy reading that. I want to continue building this beautiful friendship with Lucy - more than anything. And I let her know that. But I also let her know that I feel like we have something beautiful, that right now it might just be a single rose - though perhaps one day it could grow into a garden. That no matter what happens, she has filled my life in a most unexpectedly, breath taking, mind blowing, beautiful way.

Later in the letter, Lucy asked in a series of questions, what was the last moment that took my breath away. I wrote the following,

"I write this cautiously, but sincerely. I was in New Haven, CT and sitting with a group of people at a place called Bar. When this woman next to me (and also diagonally across from me - since it happened twice in one night) looked at me with her piercing blue eyes and titled her head at me with a slight smile. In that instant I felt my lungs tighten, the air escaping - my mind became like slosh, pure, sweet intoxication - it wasn't the beer. It was you."

And now I wait. It's almost unbearable - the thought of awaiting Lucy's response. I'm anxious and yet, I am calm. I want our friendship to grow and I want to continue to write these beautiful letters that allow me to express myself fully. Despite her being in a relationship with someone, I wholeheartedly believe that if things align like they might - that we may have a chance. Wow, could I sound anymore like Lloyd Christmas?

I'm not cashing in all my chips on Lucy, but I certainly wouldn't mind it if the time came. I'll have to distract myself in every way possible this next week and I will have to resist the temptation to reach out. Perhaps she might surprise me with a dinner visit in New York City in the coming weeks on a Friday.

My lungs are tightening. I am scared. My heart is open, my mind is racing and my hands are still trembling.