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listen  jim guthrie read  the little prince laugh  ryan belleville
random © design and text by near-sighted 2001-2002 |
I hitch my shoulders up and shrink my head into the relative warmth, shielding myself from the chilly wind making its journey along the bridge and attacking my cheeks so hard they are close to bleeding. No one is walking along the bridge except myself and a random assortment of five people. One in spandex gear, running for some sort of personal goal. Another old man, looking curiously at me from the corner of his eye. Another two, heads ducked in their winter's best, walking hand-in-hand. I could feel really lonely, but I don't. Half an hour previous, I had just bid my farewell to what I guess would be considered a date. I met him through unconventional means, I suppose, but we had a few things in common and decided to meet. He's a nice guy. Smart, funny and enjoys seeing the world. Enjoys the same kinds of movies. Pop culture savvy. Open-minded and politically sound. You'd think this would constitute instant magic. I loved chatting with him and although he is a decent guy, I didn't... feel the vibe. Which is not an unfortunate thing, given that this is only my first date since my last relationship. The unfortunate thing is that I really don't think I've felt a particular vibe in a long time. Actually, wait. Stop the presses. Yes, I have felt the vibe. The only problem is that maybe the three times I distinctly felt the vibe, I don't believe I had stability of judgement to consider if the other person had this same feeling. Or timing wasn't right. Or my parents were breathing down my neck about maintaining grades in the 90s that they banned me from any such illicit thought of a boypal. I don't think I distinctly had that vibe with any of my past boyfriends. And maybe this is a sad thing.
Are we meant to have that special feeling? And if we have that special feeling, does the other person inevitably, cosmically, feel the same thing as well? And if they do, why hasn't this worked in my vibe-experiencing endeavours? Tonight, I am more sensitive to the people walking around me. I see people on their own, sitting in Internet cafes all along Davie Street, typing in their own sweet nothings into the computer, connecting to the world in their own innocent way. Have these people felt the vibe? And have they summoned enough strength to withstand the pressure of couple-dom, to be happy with what they have and to wait for the time when that right vibe steers its head into their lives? Will they walk across that bridge and think, "Yes! I am happy and I know something will happen sometime down the line when things are right!" or will they grab on to any hand they can get just for the sake of having a hand to have. As the time in the cafe slips to the world of history, I will step outside the doors and walk back across the bridge again, tucking my hands in the pockets of my denim jacket. My hand clenches inside to give the impression of extra warmth. It attempts to ready itself for the grasp of a caring, external touch but then collapses again, realizing that it is not necessarily a caring touch that it seeks, but one that is comfortable and melts together with every wrinkle and ridge of the fingerprint. I think it's time for me to go home.
And I feel fine....... - 2004-02-23 |