We had been
silent for several moments when Jennifer broke the silence. "If you don't think its
too personal or forward of me, David, I've been wondering if you have ever been
married."
"There's
nothing personal or forward about the wondering," I replied. "The voicing of the
wondering may be another matter."
I kept a
straight face for a few more seconds, but couldn't manage to stop myself from laughing
when I saw a trace of concern creep into her face, presumably over whether a faux pas of
some sort had been committed. She laughed too with a mixture of relief and, perhaps, a
touch of annoyance with my way of teasing her.
Finally, I
said: "I don't think your wondering about my, possibly, lurid marital history is
either too personal or forward. In fact, I think its rather courageous, in a forward,
personal sort of way."
She smiled,
and a very nice, warm smile it was. The smile in her eyes was even more radiant than the
one on her lips.
I smiled
too, as nicely as I could. I hoped my smile was half as nice as hers.
Looking out
over the water, I shook my head. "No, Jennifer, I have never been married."
I expanded a
bit on my answer. "There was one time, quite a few years ago, when I thought my
moment might have arrived."
A few
tattered memories ran an express route through my consciousness and disappeared over the
horizon. I sighed. "However, the planets must not have been in the right alignment or
my apartment was hanging on the wrong cusp or something."
"Maybe
something else, something that was better for you, was intended," she indicated.
"Sometimes, the things that don't work out are really blessings, even though we may
not think so at the time they fall apart."
"You
could be right," I admitted. "But, if the better thing which is being intended
for me is delayed much longer, then that better thing will have to visit me in an
old-folks home or at my grave, which ever comes first."
"Would
it be too personal and forward of me," I inquired, "to ask why you were
wondering about all of this?"
Jennifer
looked at me. It was a strange sort of look.
I felt
warmth in her gaze, but the gaze also seemed to be seeking out something within me. I felt
an involuntary shudder ripple through my being, like I had been hit by the after shock of
some distant earthquake.
Jennifer
replied softly yet very directly. "I have fairly good intuitions about people,
David."
In a teasing
manner she said: "You do have many, quite obvious rough edges." She was silent
for a few seconds, and then she continued on in a more serious manner: "Nevertheless,
I've had a good feeling about you since you called me up on the phone seeking help for
Beth.
"Among
other things, you have a warped sense of humor that I appreciate. And, I don't know which
is worse: your having it, or my appreciating it."
Jennifer
paused briefly, as if weighing something in her mind. Then, she said: "To be
perfectly honest, my feeling about you predates the phone call. I experienced some sort of
connection or resonance with you when we met, on occasion, at a few of the psychology
conferences.
"I know
you have a good feeling about me, as well, David. I can tell from the way you interact
with me and from the way you look at me.
"I also
know you like me. We wouldn't be sitting here on this bench, if this were not so.
"The
awkwardness with which you asked me out tends to suggest you probably don't go out much.
Strangely enough, your awkwardness had a sincere charm all of its own that appealed to me.
"You
didn't try to hand me a line or snow me. This is something I liked very much.
"I
enjoy being with you, David. This is not so much a matter of what you say or do, as much
as it has to do with something which is in you...something that is hidden and, yet,
manifesting itself in a way that resonates with something in me...something which
transcends hormones, urges and drives.
"I feel
comfortable with you. I believe I can be myself around you and that I'll be accepted for
me.
"I'm a
fairly direct person, David. I do try to be sensitive to peoples' needs, and I'm not into
confrontation. Nevertheless, I believe a lot of problems would be avoided if people would
simply communicate honestly and genuinely with one another.
"No
matter what the nature of a relationship may be- family, friendship, professional, I
prefer to let people know where they stand with me. I appreciate when these sentiments are
reciprocated.
"I
realize I'm not all that attractive. My spiritual commitments make me even less attractive
to many people.
"I'm
certainly not flooded with offers to go out on dates. More often than not, the situation
is like a desert river bed that is waiting for some rain.
"Your
invitation was very nice to get. However, I'm neither desperate nor easy, if you catch my
meaning.
"I know
what interests me and what is important to me. I'm not willing to settle for less than
that. I would rather have the trials and peace of solitude than the occasional pleasure
and relatively constant discord of an ill-advised relationship.
"I
don't have any romantic expectations concerning the two of us, either of a positive or
negative nature. In fact, I have no idea how this relationship may turn out, or what kind
of relationship it will be.
"Nonetheless,
there are a number of positive indications between us which have possibilities.
Consequently, I wanted to do some exploratory reconnaissance. I wanted to know a bit more
about your background...whether or not, for instance, you had ever been married.
"I
could have asked you if there were any axe-murders in your past that I should know about.
Somehow, however, the marriage angle seemed less personal and forward."
Jennifer's
words had given expression to incredible courage. I had never met someone who was so
willing to allow herself or himself to be placed in such a vulnerable position, with no
expectation of return for the risks being run.
On the one
hand, I felt quite honored and special. I did not believe that what she had said to me was
an everyday event.
To a certain
extent, she was putting an important part of her being in my hands. She was prepared to
trust me with her vulnerabilities as a human being.
Yet, there
was a tremendous responsibility which accompanied the trust being extended to me. Here was
someone saying: treat me with sincerity; be genuine with me; show respect for me; be fair
in your dealings with me; be sensitive to my needs as a human being.
Sincerity,
genuineness, respect, fairness and sensitivity were among the things that human beings
least liked to give to one another. Far too many human beings were more likely to hand
over a thousand dollars to a stranger than they were likely to treat one another with any
degree of integrity and dignity.
I viewed the
lighted buildings on the far side of the river. I wanted to look at Jennifer as I talked,
but I felt disoriented by the uncertainty of the territory into which I seemed to be
venturing. The sight of the buildings provided a sense of stability and familiarity.
"The
other day," I began, "when I asked if you would go out with me, you teased me a
bit. At the time I indicated to you that, apparently, you were not going to make the
process of asking an easy one for me.
"Ultimately,
however, not only did you take away the stress associated with such situations, but, now,
your candor has made things very easy for me once again. However, even though you have
made the present situation as friendly as possible, I don't easily find my way to saying
what I would like to say to you.
"The
heart has its own language. One's habits, fears, and anxieties don't always permit the
intentions of the heart to be translated accurately. More often than not, at least with
me, in situations like this, what I most deeply feel gets garbled.
"Anyway,
here goes. I'll do the best I can to try and reciprocate the candor and genuineness you
have shown me.
"I
don't know anything about your personal history , and, consequently, I only can guess at
the kind of arbitrary criteria for attractiveness that people may have tried to impose on
you. However, I have my own standards of, and methods for, gauging what I consider to be
beautiful.
"I know
that when I see you, I feel happy. I know that I find looking at you to be an enjoyable
experience. I know that when I am with you, your being seems to radiate in a way that I
only can describe as, at least for me, quite beautiful and very appealing.
"When I
picked you up earlier this evening, the vision of you really did strike me as being like
manna from heaven. I was feeling empty and seeing you not only made the feeling of
emptiness disappear, your being somehow began to permeate me in a very satisfying way. You
were like food for my soul.
"Like
you, I must confess that, ever since meeting you at the first conference in Chicago, I
felt a bond of some sort with you. I never had experienced anything remotely like it
before in my life. Nonetheless, I also was fairly mystified by it, and, perhaps, more than
a little frightened of it.
"I also
must confess to you that as unfortunate and difficult as the circumstances surrounding
Beth's abduction have been for her, these circumstances also provided me with a legitimate
reason to contact you- something I might not have done otherwise. At the same time, if the
truth of the matter be known, I'm feeling a little odd about possibly benefitting from
someone else's misfortune."
While
talking with Jennifer, I had been aware, in an absent-minded way, of how the lights in the
buildings across the river had been blinking off and on. Thoughts and feelings within me
also had been blinking off and on while I was talking with Jennifer. Neither off/on
process seemed to have any discernible pattern.
I needed to
finish off what I originally had intended to say to Jennifer. "You may not be able to
imagine how nice I felt when I heard you say you have good feelings about me. Moreover,
when you intimated there are some positive indications running through our relationship
which may deserve further exploration and consideration, I was, and am, a pretty happy
guy.
"Although
I, too, do not have any expectations concerning where things between us may go, I do have
hopes. Your words have lent some degree of credence to these hopes."
As I
finished, I felt a little more confident about looking at her than had been the case ten
minutes ago. When I turned to face her, I found her looking at me in a way that, for many
years, I had believed to be more the stuff of dreams than reality.
The look had
a blend of warmth, tenderness, affection and openness. In addition, there was a depth and
intensity to it that induced in me a state that probably was somewhat akin to how a storm
tossed sailor might feel when he catches a glimpse of the lights of a port after having
been lost in the desperation of a seemingly endless night of impending doom. There was
refuge and safety and a readiness to help me find a way of weathering the squalls of life.
I was
overwhelmed by her gaze. I was having difficulty adjusting to it, as if the situation were
too good to be true and something within me was afraid to completely trust what my heart
and senses were telling me.
However, I
was quite prepared to work on perfecting such an adjustment. I felt, in time, I might be
able to get very used to, if not need, what she was offering at that moment.
In reality,
I always had needed what was coming through her gaze. I just had to become accustom to its
being present.
Briefly, I
looked away, and then, gathering resolve, I turned to her again. For a time, we became
like mirrors, each reflecting the look of the other. For a time, there were just the flip
sides of the same gaze.
Eventually
the gaze dissolved in the mists of worldliness. Sounds, smells, and thoughts intruded into
our awareness.
We sat
together in our respective solitudes, but, now, there was a difference. A bond had been
established which was like an umbilical cord between us, linking us in our separateness,
sustaining us even though we were apart.
Jennifer had
become part of my conceptual and emotional horizons. Like all horizons, her presence
shaped, colored, and oriented my focus.
