Friday, February 22, 2013

She Waited


She waited.
            All her life she had been waiting. 
            For what?
            For the man whom she could trust?
            For the man she could manipulate into doing her bidding?
            But what happend if she found him? 
            What happened when he did as she wished?
            When he said, 'Is this how you like it?
            'Is this what you wish?
            'Is there any other way I can please you?
                        What happened then?
           
We all know what happened.  He was no longer a challenge.  She no longer wanted him.  She wanted someone new. She needed a man to understand, to do her bidding, to be her “man” without letting her know that he had submitted.
           
She did want a man who was unavailable in some very precise, some very unique, some very permanent manner.
           
There were moments when she was through with waiting.  When she claimed she would never wait again. And then she went to New Zealand. 

What  happened there?  She waited.  She boarded the roller coaster of emotional excess that provides sublime happiness at the height of the track – when he arrives home.

No matter how tired, when he came into her space, she was satisfied again, momentarily happy, energized, patient, able to concentrate, to be with herself in the space which he also occupied.

In the meantime, when he was off earning his living, feeling distressed at the length of time it took novices to do the work that professionals would have done in a short span of effort, what happened to her then?

She despaired, waited, filled her time with tasks that seemed meaningless.  Only the garden ha meaning because it grew and changed with her efforts. She had some sort of control over that space,  but could never bend it to her will.

Damn, there she was again, waiting.  Waiting for it to bloom, to seed, to grow, to blossom into the beauty that she knew was its potential.

She had a need to be in relationship. Yet, she found herself in relationship with a man who was absolutely unavailable in so many ways.  She could not easily talk of her feelings with him.  He didn’t make himself available for that. if she waxed too rapidly or too enthusiastically as he drifted off to sleep in the evening, there was the question, “Are you going to go on like that all night?”

At breakfast in the morning they talked, but even that talk is limited to the factual, the rational, the political, not the personal.  There she was almost always satisfied, happy with the place she had chosen. However, the emotions of which she is so full were not expressed.

When Paul called  with his fear of the future, his inability to make a decision about the future, she is pleased that he chose to call , but at the same time, panic rose in her gut as she realized the emotional morass which existed there...and she intuitively backed away with her voice.

It is diffiucult for her now because neither man represents her most cherished need, to find a like minded partner who is mostly rational, physical, and caring. 

Oh, how we work.  There was no further story to tell.  It was always the same.  She needed to be in the world but  needed to stop expecting it to meet her imaginary requirements. She needed to enjoy what exists. There is no perfection.