As I drove home, it started to drizzle. The traffic thickened and slowed. My mind drifted to a conversation from this morning. You spoke very well; but then you always do. I like the way you use your words. And although I speak the language well enough, I could never use them with your elegance. Sigh! I love how you leave people feeling calm and yet empowered to reach for things they hadn't wanted to reach for themselves before. And you do it with such an understated style that it does not feel like the world now rests on their shoulders either. I wish I could put you on someday, over this drab of a self that is me. No, no, strike that last bit. I am special too. Even if I miss your jokes often, am awkward every other minute, seem to freeze up like a deer in your company at times.. just because.. just because I take the time to appreciate what you are all about.. beyond the calls of politeness or self-interest.
You do disappoint me, you know? More often than not. With your reticence. Or is that wisdom?! Typically, you leave me with the feeling that while I do the job, there's no way I have distinguished myself so far as you are concerned. I haven't the talent. For the better or worse, how you work me up to the throes of happiness or despair is my secret, my burden, my damnation. Pity, that! Not just for my sake either. You have made others fall short for me. And my burning ambition is to make others fall short for you. Can you even understand that?
I got honked at. What the..! A colleague who was on the next lane was trying to let me know that he has spotted me. I smiled back. And then tried to stare ahead. Unfortunately I couldn't pretend I didn't see he was bringing down his windows. You moron, I am not interested. Go home. We made some small talk straining our voices; for goodness's sake, we were on the highway! And then I was able to thankfully maneuver an escape. I shouldn't be rude with him, I admonished myself. He was, at least, always trying to be my friend.
Had you left for the day, my thoughts wandered back to you. Have I imbibed any of what I like so much about you? Is it even possible? Sometimes, it makes me sad, because I feel I am boxed in because of the box I am in. There is no escape. Circumstances often give us a mantle that few can look beyond. But then there are those moments between us. Of complete camaraderie, instinctive understanding. Real or imagined, I couldn't say. It does give me a place to stand. It allows me to hang on to the belief that what we share is real. And as I move on I take an exclusive bit of you for keeps.