Bird As Fish

So, I saw the love of my life the other day.

No, no, I am being melodramatic, but really, I don't know what he is to me. Certainly not the love of my life, but something indescribable, like there was a fairy in my mind.

I was sitting in my mother's car just outside work, finishing up our conversation before she dropped me off and at the most unexpected moment, I saw him. I was not thinking about him, nor had I thought of him for many months, but there he was with his dark red hair, getting out of his work truck. He turned his head and looked at me, and then looked again, for a long moment, searching my face. I knew who it was instantly, but was too shocked to say anything, or even register the shock on my face, so for all he knew, I did not know who he was. He turned and went to get a coffee.

Instantly, my face went red and I...well I'm not sure what I did, my mind went blank after that. I think I may have told my mother who it was who just got out of the truck. She, in her usual way, told me that I should go and get a coffee with him, and say hello. Of course, I told her that I could not. This, this was just never meant to be. I figured that out long ago. He is more like an idea in my mind than a person. I know that he is a person, but I don't know him, I just know the idea. The idea of someone who cares.

I told you back in October about the pug nosed boy who told me that he liked me (Go back and read it if you want under "Enough Courage to Speak" in October 2003), well this is he. I don't know anything about him, except his name and where he works, and the fact that my mother sees his grandmother every second day at the library.
And I have been thinking about him ever since I saw him. As I said, it is the idea of him that keeps me thinking.

The idea, like a story, like a Midsummer Night's Dream, I do not understand. I do not understand why I am thinking about him, but his face keeps flashing before my eyes, when I'm balancing my till or checking e-mails or drowning in a mire of paperwork.

But the only reason that I feel this way is that I don't actually know him. The only thing I know about him is that we went to school many many years ago, and we went to the same church. Both places, I ignored him, and he ignored me because of it. I did not mean to ignore him. At least, the ignoring was not a part of my plan, it just happened that way. He just made me nervous. I saw him once walking into the church, and he said "Hi JJ" to my brother, and said nothing to me. It was then I realized the consequences of my behavior.

I saw his grandmother sometimes and said "Hello" to her, maybe once every two years or so.

I once went to a church, just for kicks. I was sitting there on the very back pew looking at the church. It was beautiful, one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen. You wouldn't think so for it was simple yet it was esoteric. The walls were painted a spring yellow colour, like the colour you paint your baby's room when you don't know if it is going to be a boy or a girl. The benches were made of darkened wood, weathered and sat on for ages upon ages by all sorts of people.

And then, there was the arch. I, for the life of me, could not keep my mind on the homily. All I could look at was this arch - oh so tall, and stretching up up up. It was pure white and all carved and mottled and full of flowers and petals and leaves and designs, like royal icing that you use on a gingerbread house. It was as if someone had taken a giant piping bag and decorated the arch that stood at the front of the church, and I was only the little gumdrop figure with two delicate blue icing eyes, glued to the KitKat bar that was the pew. I was mesmorized.

Suddenly, he was sitting next to me. He must have been late, and just popped in and sat in the first place available, which incidentally was what I had done. It was only for a few minutes, but let me tell you, I was nervous as hell. Why? I have no idea. It makes no sense to me, why I behave the way I do, but I wished that he would just go and sit elsewhere, so that I didn't have to be nervous anymore. Did I smile at him, talk to him, or even look his way? No. No, I did not. That is why I think that it was never meant to be - we were never meant to talk to each other, because I just couldn't. After about ten minutes in agony, he located his buddies and went to sit with them.

It was then that I determined that after the service, I would talk to him. For once in my life, I would. Enough of this juvenile irrationality.
The service finally finished and the whole throng of people stood to their feet as one and began the tradition of Mingling. I joined in and looked for my opportunity. But I could not interrupt a conversation that he was having with So-And-So. I filled my time talking to various people I had an aquaintaince with. It was interesting how many people I knew from that church. I talked to his grandmother for a long time, and chatted it up with one of his best friends, just waiting for him to come around. He never did. He was always talking with somene, and after about half an hour, I gave up and left. You see, it was never meant to be.

All was not lost, however, I was given an invitation to a youth service on the next Friday. On the day, I waited outside for my best friend who said she would attend with me. I cannot count the number of times in a half hour that I was mistaken for a prositute, just waiting outside. She never showed up.

I went into the service without the moral support that I had anticipated and being naturally shy, I sat down in the deepest corner of the room. Looking around, I did not know anyone there, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glance of someone who looked like him. What happened next, but the fellow came and sat right beside me. After a minute, he looked at me, leaned over and introduced himself as my old school buddy. 'Corse, I already knew who he was. Ay silly me, but what could I say? I returned with a short polite reply and said nothing more. What could I say? I could say nothing. Nothing passed my lips and there was no time when I wished it more.

Time ticked on and on, songs were sung and sung, and words were passed around and shouted, and the youth's laughter clung heavy to me, like soda spilled alll over you, in a park on a hot day. That was the end; that was my chance; that was my chance to do what I wanted, and all that happened was that Time ticked on.

One final disgrace, I have to share. Upon my successive, and ever-mounting failures at being me, I decided, once again, that upon conclusion of the service, I should have a short conversation with the man, just to prove that I could do it. However, as I said before, he must be the most social of all social butterflies, and there never was a free moment of his time when he was not talking. After what seemed like years of waiting around, I finally gave up, and put on my coat and boots, but I could not leave without doing it.

I turned around and waved to him, very silly-like, and said goodbye to him, as if there was no one else in the room worth saying goodbye to. As if it was only him. And frankly, I did not give a rip about anyone else in the room. They could eat my shorts if they liked, but it looked so stupid and goofy that he turned around and looked at me, confused, like 'what was she doing?', and then I turned and walked away, and left. I never went back to that beautiful church, but can you blame me? No, neither can I.

So, I saw the love of my life the other day. He was getting out of his work truck. He looked at me, and then looked again, searching my face hard, and then he left.

What an odd feeling he left with me. Our other encounters were filled with my own anxiety, and worry, and goofiness. This was was perfect. Just perfect. And how I feel about that boy, I just can't describe, it is like he leaves the mystic on everyday life. I think that is why I felt so nervous around him before, whatever it is about him, he has become a symbol to me of something in life. I wanted everything to be perfect, to end up roses. But you just can't do things that way. You cannot MAKE things perfect. If they happen perfectly, then they do, if they do not, they do not, and the only way things cannot happen perfectly is when you try to make them so. Anything else is perfect, and you've gotta trust what is happening, you must trust that it will be for the best, because it will be. It always just happens that way.

As for me, and the love of my life, I hope that he keeps showing up at unexpected times and places to enchant me once again, and dust everything that I do with his magic, and remind me of what he symbolizes - the Good, and the True. As I've grown up, I've lost this feeling, the youthful feeling that there IS someone good in this world. That part of me, that hope has died, except when I see his face, once again, whether I am sitting in church, walking through Wal-Mart, or sitting in a car, and once again, that boy sprinkles me with hope.

© 2005 All rights reserved MJ Jackson. This article may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the permission of the author.