Tuesday, December 15, 2015

The Cruel Mistress

I met her at a drive-in.  I was drawn into her within moments.  I couldn’t look away.  She had this ability to amaze me, excite me and humble me all at the same time.  I was enraptured by her beauty.  Her ability to be both complex and minimal at the same time.  She was exactly what I needed at that time in my life.

We met a few times in downtown Seattle.  The relationship blossomed and grew and then, after over a year, she left.

I had a few mementos. A few trappings of the relationship stored away in a box.  She still inspired me.  She still excited me…but she was gone.

A few years went by and she returned.  I didn’t know what to think at first.  This time the encounter was different.  It was better.  Somehow in the intervening years she had found a depth and purpose that she didn’t have before.  What was once both exhilarating and simple and basic had given away to outstanding complexity.  There was more here than there was before.  Much MUCH more.  After our encounters I was left spent, wondering, reaching.  There were far more questions than answers, but that was okay.  It was as if the longing for more completeness was even better than being complete.  Our relationship had grown up – WE had grown up.  I loved her even more now.  How could I not?

But then she left…again.

Once more I resorted to what was remaining of the relationship.  The excitement that had grown in this second encounter gave way to yes, a more complex relationship, but I had grown up now.  And so had she.  There was no going back to the way it was before.

Until she walked through the door.

This time the anticipation for what was coming next was so great and so magical and so within my grasp – OUR grasp – that I should have known she would let me down.

Alas, this third encounter so many years beyond the second and first, left me feeling hollow inside.  It wasn’t that there wasn’t a spark remaining, there was!  So much of what was there in our first encounter was repeated in this third encounter.  But where was the depth?  The nuance?  The longing questions that had so enhanced our second go-round?  She had cast them aside for easy opportunities.

I wanted so much to love her again, to be with her again, like it was.  But I felt I had grown up and she had regressed.  Maybe that’s just the way of the world, choices are made – some good and some bad – and then you look back on it and see that maybe we weren’t good for each other after all.

Time moves on, people move on, life moves on…and so did I.

Years passed.  I talked about this love, this craving, this excitement.  I talked about how inspired I was by her and what she showed me and taught me.  I talked about how she let me down or maybe I expected too much from her.  Or maybe I expected too much from myself.

The word within the sentence within the paragraph within the chapter within the book was now closed.  Done.

Then she returned again.

Oh how I did not want to return to this, but the memory of so much good would not let me get away.  She had me.  Wrapped around her fingers she had me.  I couldn’t let go.  I had to see her!  I HAD to be with her!  All logic told me to stay away.  All logic said it couldn’t be like it was, it wouldn’t be like it was.  All logic implored me to back slowly away and just live in the past and enjoy what was so long ago.  Rummage through my box of mementos, remembering the good times.

I returned to her.

This time I didn’t know what to make of her.  She had completely changed.  Though there were some moments of excitement and glimmers of what was so long ago, the majority of our encounter was me just shaking my head wondering why I had bought into her again.  This was so little like it was before.  No challenge.  No depth.  No questions longing for answers.  She was just there.

I pushed away, I pulled away.  I was hurt more than anything.  How could this relationship so exciting in the beginning turn into something so cold and calculating and rote?  The passion had turned into complacency.  The love had run out and all that was left was the shell of memories and even those didn’t make sense anymore.

And then she left and returned again.  Every time I would vow to not participate in this relationship, even after the last encounter had left me so wanting and reaching and sad.  But like a bad addictive drug, she and I met again.

And, again, I was let down.  It was even worse now.  These encounters were now just…painful.  And the pain was tearing at the fabric of the good memories.  These new encounters were undercutting everything that had come before.  Not only could these new encounters not stand on their own, they were ripping out the supports from the other lasting encounters. 

Was I really that foolish so long ago?  Was that encounter at the drive-in when she swept me off my feet just nothing now?  NO!  I refused to discount how this relationship started and what she meant to me so long ago – even if now she was just a shell of herself.

When she left this time, I was done.  DONE!  Too much had gone on, too much water under the bridge, it was over.  I was over.

Then she slipped back into town one last time.

I felt like there was some hope…again.  Like a hopeless romantic thinking he’s got one last shot at true love, I met up with her and there was nothing there.  Nothing left.  Still…moments.  Just enough to remind me of what was once but no longer exists.  Just too few and far between for this lover to cling to.  Like a fog that drifts away, she and I did.

Until today.

She’s back. 

Do I take a chance to rekindle what we had?  Do I open my heart up for love and excitement?  Will the passion return or will the hurt?  She’s changed, she says.  She’s different this time around, she says.  It’s all going to be better and wonderful and just like it was the first time I saw her, she says.

I’m sorry.  I just…can’t.  At least, not yet.


“Star Wars” – she can be a cruel mistress.

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