my atypical affair

9 Mar

She casually applied a bright shade of red lipstick and said coldly, “You’re not boring, I’ll give you that.” But still she tapped her foot impatiently.

“It was never in my list of attributions,” he smirked and uncorked a bottle of 1985 Pinot Noir, “You enjoy dry wine?”

“Mmmm, yes,” she took a sip and nodded in appreciation, “But not my favourite.”

He glanced down at the bottle. An expensive bottle, blinked and sighed in resignation, “Unreadable. I’ll give you that.”

“Good. That’s my goal.”

She’s playing it cool, but in reality her heart is beating as fast as a team of wild horses. If he  had bothered to look closer at her, he’d have noticed her hands fidgeting and shaking. But his ego was scorned and now he would give anything to have the upper hand in what was going on. After all, he was supposed to be the unreadable one. 

“I called you.”

“I know you did,” he said and flicked open his lighter, lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

She shoved her hands in her pockets, took a step back, hesitated and finally choked out, “I didn’t know you smoked.”

He pulled the collar up around to his chin, creating an even greater barrier between them, “There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“I see.”

A gust of wind blew her auburn hair in her eyes, she brushed it away thoughtlessly. He would have given anything to be the one to do that a few days ago. But that was then. This is now.

“What happened with this?” she asked and motioned with her hand between the two of them.

***

Perhaps the couple above got things sorted. Perhaps they didn’t. Both were wrapped in themselves, caring too much about their own appearance and not focusing on the other. Both wanted to fast-forward past the awkward bits. She wants him to be madly in love with her but isn’t willing to compromise her feelings and vis versa. Their pride got in the way. 

***

I’ve come to notice a few things about myself and relationships. How they begin, how they end. I’ve realized that it closely resembles my connection, my affair if you will, with writing.  The ups and the downs. They both follow the same pattern.

We meet. I play coy. We hit it off. We hang out for a while. Slowly growing closer. But then I drift off, lose interest and by the same token, so does he. We were never very close to begin with anyways, so it shouldn’t really matter. But in the end, I’m still hurt, needy, just a tad and I wonder why it happened at all in the first place.

And so it’s the same with my writing, my poetry and my blogging. We meet. I play coy. We hit it off. Again slowly growing closer. I hang on to it for a while, but then I lose interest, commitment. I drift off. Our “closeness” was only ever an illusion anyways, so it shouldn’t really matter. But at the end of the day, I’m needy, I wonder what went wrong. Why did we drift so far apart?

Effort. Patience. That’s what’s lacking. Like with the couple first written about, the effort and the simple pure fact that pride overrides the want for “something more”. As with my relationships, I’ve always given my pride a cushy pillow, and taken the short cuts to success.

Not really concerned with if it were to be read by anyone. I didn’t (and still don’t) care whether it would flow or make any continuous sense. I wrote what I thought should be written. Perhaps baring myself to bare. I write based on a pattern discovered in Hollywood.

Actresses who show their top nude are more likely to win an Oscar

Attempting to get recognition the fast way. Anyone who knows anything about relationships would tell me that things take time. I want writing and I to hit the big time the fast way. Just like I want a relationship to happen with the snap of my fingers.

No waiting involved.

Upon further examination; where the couple above “forgot” to mention their want or need for each other, they could have admitted a little “human”ness about them. Instead the situation could have gone something like this:

***

“If I were to tell you, that you’re amazing,” she took a deep breath, “what would you say?”

“I would say, you’re quite amazing yourself,” he whispered and gently clasped her hand.

And then this would happen:

love affair

***

Pure and simple.

 

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2 Responses to “my atypical affair”

  1. mox March 9, 2013 at 10:10 pm #

    The analogy between human relationships and your writing is very interesting. When you are so sure about someone/something you move forward with confidence and sincerity . Remember the fear of failure is nothing compared to the reality of regret ( The Dish).

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