This is my life before we got together. I don’t know it anymore. Thinking back to how I got here in the office from the moment I struggled to get off the sheets at home, I can’t imagine how I lived before I met her. I must have been a zombie or a piece of deadwood kicked around by strangers’ feet. I really don’t know. It’s almost as if I helplessly fall asleep and get lost in dreamland whenever she goes away.
Yet I’m not saying my life before her had been a waste. I’d like to think that the strength of what we have today owes, in large part, to the silent long hours, days, months, years waiting for her to come stumbling into my life (or perhaps it was I who stumbled into her life). When I appeared before her, I was a man who knew how special love was, how others stupidly tend to take it for granted — but it was up to her to show me what it was like to be in it, to be part of it.
Many of my friends think that I’ve changed, that I was definitely not the same guy I was. That is, at least, partly true. Even in the loneliest walks I’ve walked around my college campus, I knew deep inside that there was a jolly, funny, crazy guy in me waiting to get out — trapped by the seriousness of loneliness. But it was up to her to set that guy free and walk amongst real people.
I was just waiting for her — waiting, waiting and waiting, wasting my lines and my thoughts on made-up wishes and ambitions. I made them all up to distract my mind. The more tragic my own novel, the better. I wanted to see myself as a hero in my own made-up story. It was all I could do to pass the time ’til the one I wanted came.
Oh, and she came all right. Dazed and dizzy with my eyes half-closed, drool almost dripping — she kicked me in the butt so hard that, for the first time in a long, long while, I felt the hot sting of life. She was nowhere near the image of my ideal woman that I played in my head in my endless fictional stories. She wasn’t pure, dainty, gentle, elegant, or conservative. She was bold, loud, threatening, brass, wild at times but curiously silent most of the time. And just like that, all the thick vapors of my dreams dissipated, leaving her standing in front of me, her big brown eyes telling me it was time — finally — to wake up.
There’s no secret to this. I’m not saying I did the right thing just idly waiting for the heavens to send me their best winged divine immortal up there. I guess when the opportunity came, I just willingly abandoned my old self to keep something more infinitely precious.
This is me thinking it all through amidst the background noises that are ten times louder because her voice can’t reach my ears. This is me getting used to the life I lived before. I just can’t wait to leave it again. I guess ’til she returns, I’ll be in dreamland chasing unicorns, fighting dragons, flying to the moon.