Not yet

Not Yet

Several have wondered if I’ll ever be interested in dating again.  Nature answered with a story…

After a friend diagnosed me with sexual constipation, I went for a drive through the mountains to ponder.  What does that even mean? 

Truth be told, I’m quite disinterested in any form of relationship, casual or not.  My fortress is not reinforced enough to welcome the enemy into my chambers.  I don’t remember a single relationship in which I was confident enough to be me without sacrificing vital facets of my existence, and now that the clouds are parting, I’m not anxious to lower the drawbridge.

I’ve got mountains of work ahead.  I’m in the dusty, centuries old basement of my spirit.  Each volume and reference has a layer of dust obscuring the title.  Blowing off the dust, clouds from my past billow, revealing more truths in the library of my spirit.  As the debris swirls in tiny spirals across the room, the particles yellow the dim candlelight for a moment, then fade off into the darkened corners.

I’ll sweep later.  I’ve got a new book to read.

I drove to a lake several locals have recommended and stood on the dry lake bed, on the inside of the dam.  The lakes here are nearly drained by end of season and gain hundreds of feet of water with the spring runoff.  Can’t wait to witness that.  I was at least fifty feet below a normal pool level of the lake.

As I stood speechless at the mountain scape to the west, dozens of white cranes floated in thin lines, superposed to the folding blue and green mountains behind them.  For a moment I was in Jurassic Park, jeep and all, pulling off my sunglasses in disbelief. 

A seagull flew near me, so I said “Hello, Carol”.  Instantly the gull turned back around, flew closer, then flew along the entire south tree line of the lake, following its contours.  I knew my path.  This is the second episode of a seagull directing me.

I hustled the bike trail, glimpses of small pools of lake water lay hundreds of feet below a thin line of pines standing guard for clumsy hikers.  I am feeling every molecule of the crystalline cold air fill my lungs, and start thinking about dating. 

“Yeah, I can do this.  Maybe just a lunch date, it can be casual.  I’m ready to try.  I’ll visit a tavern, then Monday I’ll go back to my therapist with a sto----“.

My right foot went a foot forward without the rest of me.  Somehow, I became bent forward at the waste, my hands waving above the rocks like a metal detector searching for anything anchored to the banks.  My crouched legs managed to lag just far enough behind so as to act like a downhill propellant.  I managed to stumble about twenty feet of massive river rocks, head down, in a perfect balanced of momentum versus gravity

I looked like an inch worm that knew how to scrinch but forgot how to inch.

Fortunately, I caught a glimpse a fallen tree that looked straight out of Lord of the Rings.  It’s rotten roots were at face level, and I was able to grab a large branch before they impaled me.

Clearly, I’m not going on a date anytime soon.

Whatever I would gain would not be worth the cost.

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