I was intrigued recently. There stood before me this beautiful man whose spiritual qualities shown more brightly than his complexion. His voice was like honey in my ears and I could not figure out why I was so drawn to him. Of course, he was a bit statuesque, bronzed like the sun had personally kissed him, and I am not lying when I say, I think I heard the stars sang a bit when he smiled.
Yet, it wasn’t any of those things that actually made my inner being peak with fascination. He greeted me with a smile, his pleasant demeanor and understanding nature instantly put me at ease. He was laid back, familiar, and he effortlessly sat in his skin. I was intrigued. I can remember chatting with him, amongst the group of individuals that were around me. I had mentioned to him that all things French are now a part of my life and he responded, “Has it always been a part of your life or is this something that you gained along life’s path?” I noted that I had just begun learning the language and he replied, “Oh, so you picked it up along life’s path.” He smiled and so did I.
It had been such a long time since I have heard someone build bridges out of sentences that connected to my heart. He had pieced words together as I often see them dance in my mind and for once in a very long time I was captivated by another’s diction. Throughout the day I listened to him as he spoke and his style of speech, his phraseology, was not only charming, but also comforting. When I left him I couldn’t stop thinking about him, I wanted to talk to him for what seemed like forever. I wanted to hear his thoughts and views, I wanted to analyze the words he chose and base that upon who he was as a man. I was intrigued for the first time in a very long time and I did want to let that feeling go.
In the days to follow our encounter my mind would so often wander back to him. I had only met him once, but I can’t forget him. I want to speak with him again. I want to learn the things that make him undoubtedly him and I want to talk to him until I discover things that he may have hidden away in fear. I want to have a conversation; a real conversation.
It wasn’t until I encountered the object of my intrigue that I discovered what I had been missing for a very long time. No one has conversations anymore. Most times brief encounters are laden with a barrage of flirting, humor thrown around as a form of social construct, sprinkled with some lies which simply leads to much miscommunication and incredible awkwardness. There is much to be said about having a simple conversation. Letting our words flow from a place where our hearts have no barriers and there are no filters to minds wandering. There is an art to being ourselves and a certain freeness that comes with being and remaining comfortable in the skin that we were blessed with. Allowing ourselves to have conversations with no barriers or filters based on the presumptions of what the other person is thinking and how they will perceive the information. We would be speaking words that are littered in smiles and giggles, possible debates and confrontations, but all of the time trueness. We would be having a conversation.
I miss a time of discovery and listening. I miss a time of processing and learning; studying people and getting to know someone new. I love to be another’s life’s historian digging for valued treasures in their chest which encloses their most valued treasure. I miss getting to know people. With so much to do in life, I rarely mention that I am bored. Yet, I must say that I am bored with people. I yearn for the newness that comes from someone exciting.
As I sit and think about this statuesque man that I have encountered on life’s path, I thank him. In a somber sort of way he reminded me of all of the things that I am missing. Yet, in his charm he forced me to reminisce upon all of the things that I desire, things that I dream of, and that I am inevitably attracted to. Maybe, one day I will see him again. If not, that is ok too. I am grateful for the encounter and the realization that I am not ok with not having a conversation. I am not ok with the assumption that getting to know me will be as easy or as cheap an email, Facebook message, tweet or Instagram like. I am not ok with 21st century jargon and lack of proper diction. There must be a thought process in reaching the scale that is me because my brain works in words that connect. Words that build bridges and in order to reach my heart you have to infiltrate my mind and if the words you speak come out in choppy text verbiage there is no way I will ever be able to absorb all that is you, nor will you in any way be able to cross the bridge that leads to me.