Sunday, October 30, 2005

How sweet it is to be loved...

It is Halloween at last, and with the exception of the Indian Summer temperatures of the last two days, autumn is finally in the air. At last, the sky is blue and cloudless, the air is crisp and blustery, and the leaves are slowly beginning to crunch beneath our feet, a sea of reds, yellows and browns rippling in the breeze. As a child, I remember trick-or-treating with my ski coat obscuring my carefully crafted costumes, lift tickets jangling cheerfully from my zipper as I tried desperately to frighten the "little kids" while collecting my loot. Last year, I took the Kid trick-or-treating in shorts and a t-shirt. It was all wrong.

But this...this is my kind of weather. The air and breeze and deepening blueness of the sky are energizing. Unfortunately, between wilting beneath the fluorescent lights of my office/classroom and studying, I am missing almost all of it. The Kid and I spend half the weekend sleeping off the week (kindergarten and after-school care, with their lack of naps, take a toll on him). Pretty soon, the highs in the lower 60s will give way to highs in the lower 50s and upper 40s, and then it will be too cold to do much of anything.

The unfortunate part of the change in seasons is the desire fall brings to snuggle up to a loved one. This time last year, it was still unseasonably warm and I was nursing a broken heart, so the need to snuggle was overshadowed by the warmth of the sun and the ice in my heart. This year, my emotions are healed and my heart is open to enveloping that of another.

I could have a cuddling partner if I so desired, I suppose. An ex of mine, Techie, would like to remove the "ex" from "ex-boyfriend." And honestly, I think I would like being with him. He is very much the male version of me, which is both comforting and, quite frankly, a tad bit disturbing as well. I tried having a relationship with him earlier this year, but what drives me away time and time again is his inability to get passed a traumatizing event which occured six years ago. It crippled him emotionally, and he will recover for a relatively short period of time before retreating to his solitary caccoon once more. If he would finally piece together the remaining shards of his life, I'd welcome him with open arms. But sadly, I've worked too hard the past few years to put together my own life. Watching him suffer takes me back to a place to which I cannot go. For his sake, I hope he makes his way out of the darkness and, selfishly for my own, I hope he emerges before it's too late. We've spent more than ten years trying to be together off and on, but the circumstances were never right. Part of me feels like we were put on this Earth for one another (although in what capacity, with our history, I am uncertain), but despite that, I'm not going to sit around and wait for him. Staying static will only allow too many opportunities to rush right by me, and it's not worth the risk if he may never be able to recover.

It's not like he's the only man who knows I'm alive. Thursday, I was asked out by a gentleman from my office building, and I have kindly accepted his invitation for coffee. Another man from down the hall appears quite interested in me as well, but he is in a long-term relationship, and I refuse to be "that girl." If their relationship ever desolves for a reason that in NO WAY involves me, fine. Otherwise, charming as he is, he remains merely in the friend zone. There are a couple men from an office downstairs who are interested as well, it seems. They took me out for drinks Thursday night after an area business dinner event. Unfortunately, one does not interest me in "that way," and everyone I know suspects the other is a closet homosexual. Just my luck.

I'm sure there are plenty of other men out there, but I don't have the time or ability to seek them out. Well, I could, but I don't want to be one of those single moms, parading a new boyfriend around every week. The Kid deserves better. He has never been away of any of my romantic relationships, and unless any appear to be turning permanent, he will remain in the dark about them. I know far too many people who as adults are scarred by their mothers' behavior.

So, in the meantime, I will snuggle up to the Kid on the couch with his bag of Halloween candy. The closest I will come to boyfriend acoutrement is the pair of track pants I'm wearing, borrowed (*cough*permanently*cough*) from Techie last winter. They are warm, cozy and oversized, and they are all I need...for now...

* * * * *

As an aside, I am truly convinced the Kid is the sweetest child in history. After nibbling on a few Halloween treats and recounting the evening's events for me (21st Century Grandpa took him trick-or-treating, as I regrettably had class), the Kid gathered up a handful of candy for each of the grandparents and then, citing the candy as "unhealthy," deposited the motherload on my bed for me. It was a sweet gesture, for which the Kid was rewarded with many hugs and kisses. But it's a shame, really...the Kid's metabolism is the only one in the house strong enough to stand up to all that sugar. So much for all the good the infomercial aerobic system I bought over the weekend was supposed to do...

2 Comments:

At 11/01/2005 12:36 PM, Anonymous The Bee-Gees said...

I vote for eating all the candy BEFORE you start the workout. Consider it your last gasp--I usally do.

Love your writing style! I can't believe you would need to take a writing class. Can't you turn this blog in as proof of a wordsmith?

 
At 11/06/2005 8:16 PM, Blogger 21st Century Woman said...

Thanks! I wish... Silly professors. Perhaps if I included a post about the change in tone regarding women in post-Colonial writing or something equally useless, they would.

 

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