A Love Proclaimed To A Waiting Heart I love my life, I really do....
A Love Proclaimed To A Waiting Heart
I love my life, I really do. Work is going really well, my family is healthy, my friends are happy AND drum roll please… It’s official: I AM IN LOVE. Yep, I said it… This fabulous (and former) single girl has fallen in love and her unaccompanied dawn-to-dark moments of chasing pavements and frolicking the mean streets of New York City wondering when they would (finally) include someone are OVER. How did I come across this sudden realization you must be wondering, well here’s the story…
Early Sunday afternoon, after a Saturday night of playing chess and attempting some outlandish vintage dance moves while listening to Donna Summer on vinyl at Joseph’s apartment, he called and needed to see me right away, as there was something very important he had to tell me. Being the lady I am, I explained the need for at least an hour to fix myself up and hail a cab to him- of course he offered to take a taxi instead, but considering I’ve been held captive on the romantic la la land of love my apartment has been neglected and the state of its condition is less than suitable for guests, especially this potentially perfect person and his extremely organized living quarters. (Listen, I’m not a slob or anything… I just have books and magazines scattered throughout, shoeboxes, some containing one or two shoes and some without, thrown all over and my walk-in closet seems to have thrown up all over the place. In layman’s terms, the apartment looks to have been fashionably raided by a nerd with impeccable taste.) So, we agreed to meet in an hour at our usual spot- by the fountain sitting east facing the lake. The process of finding a taxi and trekking uptown on the weekend is grueling endeavor, realistically leaving me only a half hour to find an outfit he hasn’t seen me in, shower, get dressed, and do my hair and makeup. (Joy.) After our phone conversation and acknowledging time was of the essence, I opted to guzzle a quick cup of coffee- instead of biting my nails while standing in my closet panic-stricken. The java helped, as did the Pat Benatar vinyl I played on full blast. (Don’t judge me, I’m not a bad neighbor… Seriously, this IS the West Village. Surely my fellow residents have suffered from worse weekend situations than a little loud awesome tunage, plus it could be worse- I could be singing instead.) Pumped with caffeine running through my veins I rummaged my apartment and found the appropriate Sunday afternoon outfit; a getup that seemed effortless and chic but was a beauty upon sight. If questioned it’s one of those “What, this old thing? Oh I just through this together…”, leaving the inquirer wondering if I wake-up every morning looking this good. (Ladies, rule number 1: ALWAYS keep them guessing! Men love a challenge, even pertaining to dignified fashion sense. Plus, a girl should always dress well- you never know who you’ll bump into or when your picture will be taken!)
So, in my finest strolling-through-the-park attire (and fabulous Suzanna Dai accessories- Mumbai bangle, Double Drop Earrings and Palm Springs Cuff) I managed to hail a taxi rather quickly- I assume being a pretty girl in a skirt also helped! While sitting in the backseat of the cab (suffering from a sever case of sweaty palms) a million thoughts ran through my head… Are we breaking up? Did that wretched ex-girlfriend of his trek East proclaiming her love? Did he hear a freakish bit of information about me? If he’s breaking up with me why not just send me a text or email? And, why am I paying for a taxi headed uptown when he could’ve just spoken his parting words over the phone leaving me in the comfortable confines of my bed to cry my eyes out over the New York Times Styles Section? After he breaks up with me do I slap him for ruining my Sunday Funday or demand he pay for my taxi headed back downtown? Actually, the smarter move would be to slap him once he’s handed me the cab fair. If he does breakup with me one thing I mustn’t do is cry. What if he’s not breaking up with me, but instead is with his mother and wants to introduce the two of us? But I’m in a bustier, surely his mother wouldn’t approve- should I head back home and change? What if he’s moving back to California? And, the move is to be with his ex? If he attempts to proclaim his everlasting love for her should I politely sit and listen or storm off? Well, at least the last vision he’ll ever have of me is a good one, because not for nothing I look good! When I see him should I kiss him? But, if this is in fact the breakup speech then he probably won’t kiss me back… AND my palms are dripping in sweat- why on all days did I NOT decide to wear gloves TODAY?! Plus, I’m wearing a silk skirt and surely this material will stain if I attempt to wipe them. Awesome. Jessica, no matter what he tells you DO NOT CRY! Goodness, I don’t even think I’m wearing waterproof mascara… Ugh! (Needless to say, due to my mental state you can imagine how miserable the ride uptown was…)
After paying my driver, in my finest strut and brave face I sauntered towards the fountain where I found Joseph pacing back and forth… Once he noticed me, he raced over, kissed and bear hugged me. He seemed happy, nervous and excited. (My thoughts: “Ok, well this is weird… I don’t care how happy he is, I refuse to sit and listen to him proclaim his love for his ex. Ugh, jerk…”) After our embrace we walked holding hands to our spot- luckily his hands were sweaty, so he didn’t notice mine. We sat side-by-side on the ledge of the fountain quiet for a moment, and then suddenly he jumped up and started his pacing again. After a few moments of watching his nerves get the best of him I finally couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer and decided to bite the bullet and ask this perfect man what was on his mind. At first he seemed hesitant (which only made me feel worse), but after what felt like an eternity he finally sat back down and spit it out…
“Umm… Ok. So, I had such an awesome time being silly with you last night. Seriously, you play a mean game of chess, but your hustle needs to be brushed up a bit. Actually, I umm, always have a terrific time each time we hang out. I can never get you out of my head. I seriously can’t even begin to exclaim how or what I feel for you. It’s incredible. There’s just this cosmic connection I feel towards you; like we were destined, meant to meet at this very point in life. (While talking enthusiastically, he jumped up and started pacing again.) Does that sound cheesy? I’m sorry if it does, but it’s true. (He then gazed at me with a slight look of disappointment and furrowed brow.) Jessica, you leave me breathless. After you left the other night I laid in bed staring at the ceiling wishing you were there, wondering if you were thinking about me. Where you? Oh it doesn’t matter… Anyway, Jessica in so many words I’m wild about you. Yes, absolutely wild. (By this point in the conversation, with arms flailing his insides seemed as though they were about to burst.) The more and more we hangout, the more and more I want to see you. I want to know everything, absolutely everything, about you! You excite me, everything about you does! I want to listen to your dreams, protect you from your fears and walk all your future steps with you. So much of our personal lives have already been shared and I only want to know more, and if there isn’t any left for you to share, then I want to create more memories with you. Does that sound crazy? Is it crazy? Jessica, I just don’t know how else to say this, but…. Umm, I love you. (For a moment his excitement diminished and he was left standing, staring at the stone floor keeping him balanced in his verbal purgatory- had his spoken words fallen on deaf ears or worse, a cold heart? You could read the emotion in his eyes, worry had crept in. His heart was pumped with love, but his mental wheels of emotion were being infiltrated by fear.)
Earlier today, while taking a water break from his basketball game with a few friends he was handed a piece of paper from a little boy passing them out in the park. He didn’t put much thought behind the flyer, but as he leaned against the fence between swigs from his bottle of water, before instinctively tossing the handout in the bin he decided to take a gander… And (in his words verbatim) his moment of clarity struck. This little boy did not just hand him a simple piece if paper, he handed him a message that spoke to him. An announcement within that moment he felt so strongly about, it had to be shared… With me. And, that declaration was of love, an emotion that had been building inside of him for so long he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
The piece of paper read:
This is your life.
Do what you love, and do it often.
If you don’t like something, change it.
If you don’t like your job, quit.
If you don’t have enough time, stop watching TV.
If you are looking for the love of your life, stop.
They will be waiting for you when you start doing things you love.
Stop over analyzing, life is simple.
All emotions are beautiful.
When you eat, appreciate every last bite.
Open your mind, arms, and heart to new things and people; we are united in out differences.
Ask the next person you see what their passion is, and share your inspiring dream with them.
Travel often; getting lost will help you find yourself.
Some opportunities only come once, seize them.
Life is about the people you meet, and the things you create with them so go out and start creating.
Life is short.
Live your dream, and wear your passion.
After listening to him rant on and on about this budding emotion I was left dumbstruck. Obviously this was not what I was expecting. Which leaves me to wonder, is it instinctual for women to fear the worst pertaining to endeavors of the heart? Within minutes I had convinced myself things between us were going to pan out terribly and my emotional defense mechanism was subconsciously expecting it. Essentially I wanted him to be the bad guy in all of this- when realistically he was the furthest thing from the villain, but instead my white knight. I’m not going to classify my romantic cynicism with that of a New Yorker’s, as appose to that of a female’s. My amorous nervosa came from a place of fear, of potential heartache… Only I wasn’t expecting the best and preparing for the worst- nope, in simpler terminology: I premeditated a fictional disastrous situation.
As I sat at the fountain momentarily paralyzed absorbing his verbal affections I ironically felt clobbered by a ton of bricks. Amongst the bare trees and crisp January air there we were- his heart exposed dripping in emotional perspiration, and I decked in my daytime glamour sundrenched in awakened confusion. Did he just tell me he loved me? Did this perfect being, a man my girlish mind secretly envisioned to be the man I waited twenty eight years for, just say the words I longed to hear upon sight weeks before singling sitting in candlelight awaiting my arrival? At night, when the world rested but my mind would and could not, I sat at my windowsill staring at the stars wondering if he was thinking about me, wishing the universe would synch our thoughts. Inwardly I had conceptualized this moment, just never expected it. I also never reckoned upon the gazing stars our New York nights shared laid a mutual admiration and longing for each other. If a year ago today someone would have told me my whole world would change while sitting at this fountain, a destination since youth I casually enjoyed, I never would have believed them. Looking around our deserted destination I suddenly felt guilty for taking life for granted. That exact location watermarked so many previous adventures- feeding bathing birds with my parents as an adolescent, gossiping with gaggles of girlfriends about the football team as a teenager, and now as an adult, positioned face-to-face with a man proclaiming a love I knew in my bones was mutual.
And so, not wanting to spoil the moment any longer due to my silence, I rose from my love-struck stupor, sauntered over, tipped his chin up from floor gazing and kissed him, where between our embrace affirmed that I too loved him and shared a midnight moon of longing.
Sigh… Who would’ve guessed it- me, Jessica found love.
Phew, what an day… After my declaration of emotional agreeance we stared at the lake understanding the nexus of our essence and while basking in our communal adoration strolled through the park holding hands, where life felt perfect… My world complete.
That said, this is where my beating heart filled with love leaves you… As I have another successful date to attend this evening (with the man I love who loves me back). And as per usual, I don’t have a clue what to wear! So, let me get to it…