Have you ever met someone who tore into your very fabric of time and space; someone who bit down on your complacency; someone who destroyed your comfort zone? I haven’t known her long: less than a week actually. And yet, I feel like I’ve loved her for eons. I feel like I knew her in a past life. No, I didn’t just know her, I loved her. Deeply. And I’m just rediscovering this love in my present life.
I love how she looks, yes. I love how she thinks, yes. I love how she is. I love her. I fear though that in this modern age where the ‘stalker’ phenomenon has been introduced to the mainstream through a multiplicity of Hollywood films and television series, that I may be mistaken for one. That my choice of the word ‘love’ just a couple of days after meeting her may be misconstrued as a stalker symptom.
I mean, who loves a stranger within one week of meeting them? Contemporary practices dictate that people have to get to know each other first. They have to interact in a variety of situations, over a ‘long’ duration of time before one even contemplates using the “love” word. Am I then a proponent of ‘love at first sight’?
It would be ironic since I always scoffed at people who suggested that it was love at first sight with their partner. Well, joke’s on me. I thought I was immune. I thought it was an unsubstantiated and fallacious phenomenon – until I was a victim. For since she walked into the room that Monday afternoon, I was sold.
I felt her presence. I felt her come in and was obliged to look up. Hence, my first encounter with her was not physical, and thus, can only be described as spiritual. Then I saw her smile as she said hi to the Black man. I was hooked. The closest I got to her that day was a fist bump when I was saying bye. She gave me a funny look so I presumed it was either I she did not like, or fist bumps.
Anyway, I spoke to her the next day, Tuesday. I died – only to resurrect enslaved to her. And like any slave, I only have one master. She has my heart, she has my head. All I can do now, like any lover whose love is not reciprocated, is live life hoping I can get her, or get over her. Then again, neither those options seems appealing.
I may wait my entire life and never have my love reciprocated. On the flipside, I may never get over her. So, I wholly embrace my love for her. And with that, I can focus on everything else other than love matters, for my heart has already found, and I wish to stress it no further. I shall not bother her with my love declarations any longer but I fear that this love may only grow stronger. Until then…
67 Year Affair 