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[21 Apr 2008|12:50am] |
Confidence is a strange concept. So many times in the past I have been sorely lacking in it. And yet, so many times it has been something i've had in spades, so much so that i've achieved things I never thought possible.
In recent years, I had a relationship that should have given me so much of it. When I did not have that experience, I was really quite unconfident with women, and I never thought i'd break that vein. When I did, I learned many things, and I left that relationship thinking that I would go on to be quite the catch. This didn't materialise, but it's not because I tried too hard, it's because I didn't try at all.
I'd accumulated so much confidence, I didn't know what to do with it. In the end, it has negated itself, and any woman I do like I shy away from more than I ever did. It's like an extreme. I could be so awesome for a woman, but it's almost as if the barrier has become bigger. Once I get past it, I could be the best boyfriend ever. But I can't get past it.
Something changed though. Tonight, I said to Stuart that he had carte blanche to tell Rebecca this. To tell her that I wanted to talk to her, but I couldn't do so while I was dressed in the common dress of a kitchen porter. So next time she appears, she shall know, I shall buy her a drink. It will be through a conduit, but she will know I like her. I am afraid of rejection, but let's face it, even if her reply is negative, I have nothing to lose. And I think whatever the reaction, I am awesome enough to be anyone's love.
So it won't hurt if she says she doesn't like me in that way.
And in the event she does, then...well...let's say my strengths would flower. If I get past that first step, i'm unstoppable.
My confusion come because i'm in a state of confusion. I have feelings, undeniable, for another. Feelings that even in times of calm, suggest themselves in little flutters. I am capable enough emotionally, to keep them in my subconcious, but I cannot deny they're there. Let's say, that if Rebecca took my hand in warmth and romance, I would not seek this feeling any longer. But in the meantime, it remains there.
If Rebecca returned my fancy, I would be ravenous. I would be Sinatra, like Williams, like Darin, like Ella. I would be incredible. Two women are confusing me at this point, but if Rebecca were to suggest herself more, then I would be entirely, and potently in her sights. And I am not only hungry for romance, I am intelligent, mature and ready, but also, I am full of amour.
I just fear rejection. If that were to happen, I would feel bad for two days, at which point i'd think, fuck it, it wasn't meant to be. My faith in romance cannot be shaken by it. If that were so easy, i'd think that having only had one relationship would mean I was destine to be lonely. But no. I would be just assured in that thinking that it wasn't her I was meant to be with.
However, if she responded with a good word, I would punch the heavens from their moorings. If she truly liked me, I would use this knowledge as a ramp, and leap off it. I would sit, tentatively with her and ask her about her job, about her work with the elderly, about how it interests her, I would look into her eyes intently, and burrow deeper and deeper into her gaze, I would bury myself into her mind, deeper and deeper, until every word she says is reflected in me. I'd slowly and subtly transmit my quickening desire to her through my hazel eyes, ever so slightly flickening my gaze, like a candle, to her hair, her lips, her arms. I'd rest the point of my sight upon her fingers, the way she holds her glass, the slight nuances in the way she intonates. If this all sounds worrying, believe me, it isn't. I'm daydreaming. It's my thing. I like fantasizing about falling in love.
So sod off. I like it. It could be Rebecca, it might not be, but the point is I like thinking about what it would be like.
Okay, so digression aside, i'm listening to her speak, the fluctuation in her voice begins to become not just sounds or noises, but becomes music to me, and I like the way her hair is hanging down over her mouth when she talks, I like the way she strokes an errant hand across it to brush it out of the way. I imagine, cautiously, myself doing it. I imagine myself and her clutching each other for dear life in the breezy tumult of a Ramsgate beach, on that first night that greeting card suggestion turns to the quickest heartbeat, when flowers and orchestras become the first pressing of lips upon lips, I imagine her, so potently, at the point at which she falls in love, so deeply, that her heart misses a beat and she sinks into me, so divinely, like the collapse of a cloud into the horizon.
My imagination is running riot. Believe me, i'm not in love with Rebecca, but I would say that I could so easily be. I'm always open and always ready for anything to happen.
Rebecca is clearly beautiful. She's graceful, and polite, and sexy. I will not get carried away with the though of her, because she may never fancy me, but if she does, or could, then this is the way i'd view it. I love thinking like this. Let's continue, with all those romantic disclaimers out of the way. Let's just say, it's important I remember, this is a dreamy Phylly thinking, not a realistic one. I'm just...you know, dreaming. I won't let my heart out to anybody, but I will dream.
Enough nattering. Let's continue. By the way, AOL is disconnecting every five seconds. It's not relevant to this post, but I thought i'd mention it, as I hate AOL. Though I think it's the router giving up. Expect a lack of posts soon, as I spend fifty quid on a new fucking router. I'm not happy about it, but there you go.
Okay. Let's say, I hit it off with her. Even though i've not done this in a long time, and i'm nervouse, my worries melt into dusk as I stare into her eyes. Thye're brown, I think. I'm not sure. I know she has big eyes, and I know they're beautiful, but i've not seen them up close. I pick up my wine glass and rotate it, watching the red swim. I can't escape the look in her eyes. I still would not believe it. The candle would seep into the wax, and I would feel silly. She suddenly leans into me, and her lips catch mine, our hair collides, my desires and heart conspire to dance a merry jig, I can't talk...I try to say something and she engulfs all the syllables with her own breath. I am aware only of dancing lights and hazy emotions. I draw her close, I delicately encircle her waist, and follow the length of her arm to her hands, and trace the lines of her palms, while her lips hit my neck. I, now utterly lost, breathe gently into the space between her hair and her ear, and exhale with the twin desires, of passion, and delight. I fall in love.
None of this has actually taken place. I'm just thinking out loud.
THIS, is the way I think about love. I could have written it better, so much so. But I am not at the peak of my powers. When I am, you'll know it.
Goodnight.
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