Tall and chiseled, calm and poised.
He glistened in the same way that the sun makes sparkles dance on the water. When I was little, my mother told me that the sparkles were fairies dancing.
Like most children, I loved fairies and magic. I found safety in thinking all of it was around me, in my world, I wanted to be kept safe.
As I grew older the sparkles that danced on water, the universe, or God—whatever you choose to believe or not believe—was a reminder to me that the stars align, there is a plan, that things are unfolding with synchronicities and meaning. There is meaning in deciding to make no meaning of things at all. I have always loved to make meaning, it helps me to continue living.
I get pulled away at times but when I slow down and look at the sparkles that dance on water I am reminded of my hopes and dreams. I am reminded that I am safe. All I want is to feel safe.
Tall and chiseled, calm and poised.
In the spotlight he projected an essence of calm somehow. I watched as he charmed an entire room of strangers. He watched, as he charmed me. There I was, a young woman sitting in a dark audience; yet feeling particularly special. If someone that good could desire me, there must be some goodness in me, I thought to myself. I sit in the dark, in a room of strangers feeling like someone chosen, making meaning of everything.
There he was, so adored and full of promise, seeing some goodness in me. I laugh with the audience, again and again. No one in this room knows what we have. Neither did I. But I felt a sense of goodness within me.
We had a hotel room in the part of town where the streets are cobblestone. When I looked out the window I could see my favourite bookstore. The sunlight against his eyes that morning made him glisten even brighter. White robes and he delivered espresso to me in bed and I was almost late for work. We had a morning like that, that is something we had. It made the city feel a little more magical for a moment, then he was on a plane again and life went on.
We had a bottle of natural wine delivered to our table from one of his fans. No one in that room knew what we had, neither did I. He was always coming and going, I mostly saw him with a backpack on his back. There was something endearing about it to me. I made meaning out of him seeing me when he was coming and going, choosing me in this city of many more, but I made it all too easy. We kissed in the street lights, in my room and on my couch. Then, he was on a plane, again and again.
One morning after we woke up together he took me for coffee. He got an oatmeal bowl and I just wanted to laugh. It was so fitting. He was so calm and I was sweating. Does he see me?
I kept asking questions about his writing style, his inspiration and his dreams. I truly wanted to know. I was so focused on trying to be attentive and sweet that I wasn’t considering how he was making me feel. Before we parted ways we said goodbye at a red light, there was a look in his eyes that I didn’t know what to make of. There was almost a knowing. I walked home in my patent leather navy heeled boots and my thighs sweating underneath my corduroy skirt. I thought to myself, I don’t think he asked me a single question. I put my headphones on and walked across the big bridge. Cars zooming past me on one side and the ocean swaying on the other, a Saturday morning in the late summer heat.
I was thinking long and hard. My feet hurt; what had I done all of this for? What did we have? The more I began to sweat, the more my feet began to hurt, the more I wondered; what was I doing?
As soon as I got through the door of my apartment I stripped off all of my clothes. The heat was making me feel claustrophobic and my thoughts made me feel itchy.
I put on one of my light nighties and I pulled my piano keyboard from under my couch. It was dusty and neglected but plugged it in and dusted off the keys. Sitting on the floor of my apartment, I began to play. I mixed a few different recorded sounds together in GarageBand. I wasn’t particularly good at mixing any music or sounds or playing the keyboard for that matter, but I had fun doing it, it made me feel good inside.
He inspired me to dust off all the things I loved to do that I was neglecting. Neglecting in my search for love because ever since I was a little girl, finding love was my biggest dream of all.
I sent him the audio clip via Email to which he responded, “sad, but hopeful.”
He made offers via Instagram in likes and occasional compliments, I allowed it to suffice for some time. One day, I realized it had been more than a year, it was easy for time to go without expecting much from him because he was so often away. I had the deepest admiration for him, for his courage and grace. What a sad but hopeful woman I was. I was only a mere convenience to him, a woman in the city when he was stopping through.
I was in my living room freshly out of the shower, crocheting scarves for my best friends, watching Real Housewives on TV. Suddenly all I could hear was the sound of an unfamiliar alarm; a warning. I followed the sound to my bedroom where his backpack lay on the floor. I opened the bag, there it was, a small circular alarm clock. I held it for a moment before turning it off, time is up. What am I still doing? Sitting in the audience, watching a spotlight shine on him when he can’t even light a candle for me. He doesn’t even know what my dreams are.
There were other women in the audience feeling special, he could have his pick, but I could have mine too.
Months later, after another 8 hour day at the office, I am in my living room freshly out of the shower. Staring at my screen, wearing my favourite pink and white striped robe and I see him on TV. For some reason I cry. How beautiful it is for someone to follow their dreams. Hoping his time in the spotlight never runs out, knowing I have no energy or desire to convince him I am also worthy of light.
My touch, the walls of my bedroom, my time and attention were worth more than he was offering. I wasn’t so used to knowing that. There isn’t so much to be angry about when someone has promised you nothing.
I sit thankfully, knowing he gave me the ultimate reminder; to follow my dreams. Throwing the passion that I have had for men into my work, my dreams into creating the life I’ve always wanted. That life can exist with or without a man, and this changes everything. I still wanted to see him win.
There he was, tall and chiseled, calm and poised. The Golden Bunny.