On Valentine's Day

I feel like an Idiot…and if I think about it closely, I may very well call myself an idiot. I cannot believe the weight of miscalculation that could possibly doom my future relationship before it has even started.

Here I just met a beautiful and intelligent woman, had the boldness to talk to here, and the courage to ask her out, without even realizing that Valentine’s Day is coming before our date.

I now seat here all perplexed, wondering what I must do or even worse, what she must be thinking; she must’ve known that Feb 14^th was coming; did she find it strange that I skipped the day to set our date? Wouldn’t it be weird to meet right after the so-called Love Day and discuss how it went, knowing all too well that we had already set an interest in one another when it happened?

I want to reason myself into thinking that it would’ve been too much pressure to set up a first date on Valentine’s Day, it is socially awkward. It is plain stupid to bring flowers, chocolate or a card when you do not even know if you will be compatible to date…but not doing so is simply weird when everybody around is adorned with Red passion.

Who cares about Valentine’s Day anyway, isn’t it another pagan, bloody event that was converted into the very thing it doesn’t emulate?

Besides all that, I am fearful of engaging into a subconscious self-sabotage action. Maybe deep inside of me, I already want this entire effort to be fruitless. I sometimes reflect on the fact that the want of a thing is sometimes more than its worth; maybe the yearning of Love is more exciting than Love itself. I always ask those who have married before me, or finally gotten in a relationship: Does the time we spent talking about it, hoping and wondering about it worth the real thing? Now that you have achieved it, if you could look back, are all the questions you asked before hand answered?

I always imagined how it would be to be married, in a serious relationships, how weird and how scary; many what ifs in the probable change of life. Now that it seems right around the corner, I fear that I am not as excited as I hoped to be.

I do nevertheless anticipate the beginning of the journey, and the image of my Belle is sculpted in my brain. Maybe my apprehension about this entire Valentine’s Day thing is an indication of how precious I already view a relation that has yet to start.

No one tests the depth of a river with both feet, I already announced my arrival, all I need to do is handle the situation one step at the time, and hope that I have not set myself for failure.

I will simply call her, chat for as long as she wants to and wish her a “Happy Valentine’s day”, with hope that we will celebrate the next one together.

The Decision

I have always asked myself the question as to whether Dreams are meant to be dreamt or realized.

It has always puzzled me how motivating one is to realize his or her dreams, and how incredibly one can become unappreciative once the dream is realized. Perhaps my biggest fear is to see my dream not live up to the expectations of my fantasies.

I could sense that battle raging inside of me as I decided to approach the beautiful woman who seemed to be the personification of my dreams and the answer to my prayers.

After a polite introduction and a sincere revelation of my desire to talk with her, I was invited at her table; as if to confirm my first impression, the conversation began smoothly as if we had met before. We were forthcoming, comfortable and eager to learn about the other. The atmosphere was conducive to our interaction and from one’s body language to another compliments, we were flirting without ever stepping out of one’s comfort zone.

If on the outside, I was proudly in control. On the inside, I had 4 to 5 alter-egos engaged in a intense debate: the one with the loudest voice kept repeating like an old record, the warning I had to hear: Do not blow this, DO NOT BLOW THIS!!!

How could I blow it? I had memorized all the key signs that indicate if a conversation is going the right way; observe the inclination of her body, pay attention to the way she crosses her legs; follow what she does with her hands, do not neglect the way she plays with her hair, pay attention to the lip area, do not answer your phone or text messages, and look at her in the eyes.

All this cues where right there in my head, but I could not make use of even one of them, lest again interpret it. I was instead hypnotized by her beautiful green eyes, I melted when she smiled and put her hand on my forehand, I became Gaga when she looked at me and timidly looked down. It was absolutely impossible to say if she was into me, but even a blind person could tell that I was way into her; she was beautiful, intelligent, well traveled, with multicultural awareness and sensitivity. She looked active and athletic, and spoke with the poise and softness that makes women appease the heart of the hardest S.O.B.

So enslaved by her charm, I became to wonder if this wasn't too good to be true, what if she already had a boyfriend (I never checked that)? What if she is really my future wife, could I live up to it? Imagine we actually hit it off, how will I make sure that I can find a way out in case it goes down? What if after a week, I am tired of it, how will I end it?

As she spoke, in less than 3 minutes, I had mapped out and covered all areas that would allow me to go in, get it, and get out. Suddenly, I felt a little more relax, and then came shame. It just hit me that instead of working out the strategy that will help me make sure that she stays in my life; I was instead on a path of self-destruction preparing for the worst instead of the best. I still could not shake off the thought that she is “the one”. I had to ask myself what is it that I wanted: Do I want to live the dream, or live the rest of my life dreaming?

I decided that I had hoped long enough, I had dreamed for too long, it was time to fulfill the dream, thus killing the dream for the benefit of reality. At peace with my decision, I managed to stir the conversation to a point I could ask for her contacts, learn about her relationship status and plan for the next meeting.

It all turned out well, and with our next date set, she excused herself and had to leave. I sat there deciding not to walk her to her car as it would have been too early. I watched her walk toward the door, and while I could have easily been focusing on the elegance of her strides, I instead realized that she was walking off with a part of my life that I was hoping never to see again…my single life.

She reached the door, looked back at me, smiled and waved goodbye. I waved back, in my head simply telling her:

“Welcome into the rest of my life”.

Woo her, Love her, Marry Her

I had come to perceive God has a dictator, one who makes claims of peace, prosperity and abundance, only to hide behind repeated demands of adulation and gratitude instead of living up to the promises.

My blasphemy spearheaded by the seduction of my enemy held me in a prolonged bondage which effect can only be measured by the sentiment of humiliation and humility I felt when I finally broke free.

As a lonely man rarely learns from his lessons, a newfound quest compelled me to review my maker as some type of Bureaucrat (I wouldn't dare going back to the dictator claim). I thought that I had placed so many stakes on God, only to perceive Him behind a desk not moving forward to help me, but constantly pounding me with a list of what I have done or not done. I started to wonder if the devil was not more effective at what he was doing…it all looked like the enemy is pro-active in tormenting you, while God is reactive in helping you…

Like a snowball, the contamination of spiritual dissatisfaction broadens to all aspects of your life, and just like that, the problems are too big, the solutions too complicated, so much that even the first step to resolve things seems invisible or impossible.

Just when I was about to finally hang forever the coat of my spiritual allegiance, she appeared; she glanced at me for a second, and opened an entire realm of possibilities. The mere fact of her presence rushed a high level of adrenaline in my body, while her serene beauty captivated me for what seemed an eternity.

I could say she is just another beautiful woman among the many I have seen in my life and yet, something exulted from her that seemed different; I couldn't say if she was the most beautiful among those who have now occupied my dreams, and are since prettier in mind than in reality, or if she is even my type. I can however for some reason, make the claim that at this moment, at this very place, she was in that very seat just for me.

I started to review the entire amazing scenarios I had made in mind about meeting beautiful women, scenarios that sounded like movies and other fictional medium. I tried to review my mental notes and tap into the bold confident man I am in those fantasies, who is a mixture of James Bond with the skills set of Hitch…

I tried to shake up the unrealistic setting that had so far plagued me with unrealistic expectations and convince myself that yes, she may have been a hot girl who fancied my eyes, but she was also probably the hottie "way out of my league" (a painful admission for one proud man…)

Just like that, I resolve myself to let the moment pass, so that when she leaves, I can beat myself down for not talking to her, or ridicule myself for reenacting the entire moment, and promise what I would do should it happen again or simply lie to myself that she was not really my type…

When God makes you a gift, you do not complain about the wrapping, and when He answers a prayer, even if you are not ready, the Holy fingerprint of His deed forces you to recognize it.

She glanced again and smiled, I looked down, completely disarmed by that smile. I ponder what to do? I have failed enough times to recognize that she would welcome me talking to her. Fear paralyzed me, and I realized how twisted I really was, my biggest fear was not to get rejected (although it was right up there), my worst fear was that it could actually work...

With each heartbeat, I felt a burst of energy running away from me, I called myself names, from coward to unfaithful; I beat myself down in facing the dilemma that I have prayed for a scenario similar to a point where I stopped believing God could do it, but there it was. A beautiful woman like I have rarely seen right in front of me. I scoped the café for anyone who may witness the scene in case I was badly rebuked…not many customers left, just a few older citizens and families too busy in their own affairs.

I try to see if there is even another pretty girl around who may influence the outcome of my daring approach (women are influenced that way…)…no one, she is the hottest girl in, it will only make sense…

I stretch my neck to scope the area and see if there isn't any other possible suitors and rivals…I saw three, but one look way too into his laptop, another older gentleman is obviously married, and the last one is so out of shape, if he is thinking about it, he must be in worst mental shape than I am.

It is all too perfect, to surreal, and yet, it is not the opportunity that tingles inside of me, it is not the mere fact that God may have answer my prayers and place me at the right place, at the right time, all this is great, and just being able to get a number would be a great step, that with cranked up prayers, may lead to dating, and all the good things I have yearned for but somehow struggled against.

What befuddles me is the sensation that this is much more than a scenario that will work; it is that silent still voice I have never heard until now. That sudden confidence coupled with unimaginable peace for any man about to approach what is well accepted to be a “10”.

I let it soak for a few seconds, admire the young lady in front of me, and lovingly repeat in my head the words of the silent voice:”She is the one”.

I keep analyzing her, and like a traveler distinguishes the arrival post of his destination, there is a little nostalgia, some apprehension, even some fear.

But the excitement is too big to be contained, I am mesmerized by the beautiful woman, and am in awe of how perfect she looks. It all seems surreal and hard to digest, but after more than 10 years searching, much frustrations, depression and confusion, just looking at her generates hope, because this is for me to screw up.

Some older men have told me that before, ”Relax, when you will see her, you will know”.

I make a small prayer to thank God and apologize for my unfaithfulness until now, and then just so it actually sounds official and confirms that this is not a dream, I smile and finally acknowledge this new truth:

“I have finally found my Wife.”