6’3 with the brownest of eyes. Widest of smiles and an all encompassing of embraces. I was smitten, often bemused by him yet I was drawn to the warmth of his soul which did a terrible job of attempting to hide from me. He loved without resolve or recompense. He just did. His face always twitched when I looked into his eyes and I was all too aware of the unfamiliarity of this occasion to him. His hands, double mine in size, eased from tension when our fingers interlocked. A motion we did to reassure ourselves of our commitment to this. To us.
He often looked me deep in the eyes, in a way I’d never experienced before, the stare piercing, but the intentions enveloped with love. A look of admiration and pride, that always on his left hand side stood his dame. Head to shoulder with him, ready to take on the world together. My love for his TGC was unflinching, the stormiest of weathers were to be faced. The longest of journeys were travelled, bouquet of flowers in hand, or a rose, or simply a kiss to say ‘Welcome’. My face would always beam as the two souls were reunited for all to see. We talked about the world. Things we saw and things we didn’t. Our fixation on things we didn’t know would later be the source of our demise. Where he saw here and now, him and I, lovingly involved. I saw tomorrow, blurry as it was I always saw tomorrow and steered him in that direction. His voice was the lullaby I fell asleep to at nights, while his words of endearment for me made the mornings the brightest of all, even on a grey day. My TGC had me, and I had him. We worried not about facts and figures, and earnings and projections. We worried not about where we would live or who’s status was befitting to who. We worried not about the flashiest of possessions or who would say what. We just worried about love. Our love. And how we would enrich it. He said once ‘I love you because you chose me’ words which remain etched in my heart til this day. I chose him then, flaws and all. Not caring what the world would think or how we looked together. He was mine and I was his. He was grateful that I had chose him, when I could have said no. I said yes. When I could have walked, I stayed.
I was happiest when I was suspended in oblivion. An oblivion which only recognised love and nothing else.
We were both novices at this, leading through, blindingly treading on eggshells, lovers before friends. But we cared not and feared not the consequences of this leap of faith. Because love surpassed all. Our journeys on the black line were filled with giggles and smiles and head on chest, arm around waist, kisses to forehead with eyes closed. I always had a seat, the ‘safest seat in the house’ he would call it. Perched comfortably on the most athletic of thighs with a shoulder for resting my head. Nothing felt safer than his embrace. All 6’3 of him was for lil old me. I was lucky.
I was happiest when I was suspended in oblivion. An oblivion which only recognised how I felt and nothing else.
Then I sought knowledge, or better yet, it found me. My expectations sky rocketed. This ‘love’ was no longer sufficient I would tell him. I begin to wean from him. The distortions of Planet People began to get to me. The sealed ears began to receive noise. The heavy eyes lids which shut out views of the idyllic were now slowly raising. All I saw were mechanisms which detached us. Swung me out of oblivion to knowledge. Knowledge of class, knowledge of the Conversation, knowledge of the Expectation, knowledge of the Culture, knowledge of the Language. Knowledge which only perpetuated a dissatisfaction with what was once all right, although he only ever saw it from the left. The 4 a week rather than the 7 a week escalated to ridicule. Our emotional contract was being broken, by me. Slowly, consciously, for I thought the grass was greener there, over in that tomorrow that had always been blurry; I fashioned an oasis. On closer inspection a mirage appeared. But by which point all I saw was the back of my TGC. Head hanging low, shoulders slumped and a shockingly visible teardrop landing on the floor, it’s splash echoing higher decibels than the weight of it ought to warrant. My knowledge of the previously unknown had turned our love into an inconvenience. Our journeys on the black line were not so comfortable now. Giggles turned to silence, tears streamed down both our eyes as the reality I had made for us without his consent dawned on us. That this will not go on.
I was happiest when I was suspended in oblivion. An oblivion which only recognised two rather than many. An oblivion which allowed the heart to lead and not the eyes or the ears.
Take me back there.