What is this, a Modern Love episode? — Part 2

I am sitting opposite her in this small cafe/karaoke bar and she’s expressively talking about her pet dog, tapping the table every now and then, her eyes probably as cute as the golden retriever she’s explaining about, her hands waving in the air, her lips pouting occasionally, and her jhumkas dangling rhythmically to the story she’s narrating. I look at her earrings and try to sync my nodding. I smile to myself. It’s like entering a bookshop and searching for something you don’t even know what it is. Eyes skedaddling from one shelf to another, fingers caressing the spines of the paperbacks and hardcovers, wanting to have all of it and lamenting the fact that you cannot have it all.

I look at her and I am helpless. Just the way I’m in bookstores. My mind can’t decide what to focus on.

She’s monologuing for nearly 10 minutes and my stream of consciousness derailed from one thought to another in this exact order: Mary (her little puppy) runs off to the neighbor’s house every morning and pisses on their newly bought car’s tires. Her face lights up every time she talks about dogs. The pink-colored pearls on her earrings match the rosiness of her lips. Extremely sinful and disturbing, but her silver necklace with the Holy Cross is so hot for some reason. A bracelet with a butterfly charm and the black satin scrunchie that hugs her wrist tightly fit well with her red flannel shirt, 2 buttons undone and sleeves rolled up.

“And you wouldn’t believe what happened the last time I went home for vacation. Mary was waiting impatiently near the gate and ……”

She hopped to another one of her dog’s adorable misadventures.

This is our first official date. It’s like we are going in reverse. We’ve covered all the bases (literally and figuratively) before this step. But since I was all Mr. Emotionally Mature on New Year’s Eve that day at the terrace of our apartment, things started to speed up on the feelings front. She took time to rethink the relationship dynamic and confessed that she likes me romantically too. I thought once you start dating, it’s uphill from then on, no problems but all butterflies. I was wrong.

I keep thinking of this Richard Siken quote and nothing resonates with me more than his words. “If you love me, you don’t love me in a way I understand.” Loving someone and loving them the way they wish for are two different things. Every time I debate on this, I am at a crossroads. Isn’t love the ultimate goal? Who cares about the ingredients and the process if the dish tastes delicious? However, isn’t taste subjective? The taste buds blossom differently for different people, don’t they? Then again, not only the action but the intention (in itself) is also love. Should I feel contented because I am loved or cry over the specifics of the ‘how’? It feels so criminal to want something more when I receive enough. Sometimes enough isn’t enough.

In the end, I always find ways to get what I want. When it comes to relationships, I learned an important lesson and now it is my superpower. Always Ask. In our society, asking is associated with pride. Being self-sufficient is valued and dependence is considered a weakness. Somehow, all the deprivation of love in my life powered me to be eloquent in conveying my needs. Even though it was difficult to use this superpower with her, I managed to find a way. Instead of asking out of the blue, I try framing a context by gamifying the conversation. Truth or dare, What if, Never have I ever, Would you rather, 2 truths and a lie, Who’s most likely to… The list goes on. Sometimes, out of thin air, I introduce conversational games like this. Like now.

Hey? Are you even listening? You look like a smiling zombie. Talking about my dog bored you to death, eh?

No… Sorry, I zoned out there a bit.

What were you thinking?

Nothing. Just some thoughts.

Come on, take me with you. Let’s ride in your train of thoughts together. Toot Toot

Haha. Funny.

No, I mean it. You kinda look distant. Do you want to talk about something?

Let’s play a game!

Now we are talking business. Go on. What do you have in mind?

I call it ‘The Honesty Minute’.

Sounds like a trap but I am prepared to dive in. What is the rule?

Very simple. I open the timer and run it for a minute. Your task is to be honest and speak your mind for the full minute. That’s it.

About you?

Anything. About you, me, our relationship, family, friends, anything. But remember, 100% honest. No withholding or sugarcoating. Bam Bam Bam. Keep on firing.

Hmmm… Do you want to start? Show me how it’s done?

Nope. You do the honors. You go first. I like it that way.

Okay then. Let me think for a second…

I’ll get the timer ready.

…

…

I think I don’t really know what I truly want. I’m just clueless about my life. The more I think about it the more I understand that I want nothing. It is not that I’m unhappy. Honestly, I’m grateful for so many things in my life. Blessed with lovely people around me, a decent home, my dog, and you. Also, I visit the church regularly so there is no spiritual vacuum to worry about. I don’t know. I feel like a soldier returning from a long-fought battle who has endured the unimaginable and all she wants now is to strip off the armor and… sit. I am not depressed. Just tired. And I can’t find out what I’m tired of. Or am I afraid? If I open the can of worms, I think I may not like what I discover.

Is it difficult?

It is. Okay now. No more self-pity. It’s your turn. Let’s see if you can beat my honesty meter. Do you want a minute?

Yeah… I think I’m ready.

Go on. Tik Tok Tik Tok…

I wish you’d read more romcom novels than smut. Don’t get me wrong here. I absolutely love the antics we try in bed and there’s never a dull moment when we boink. You surprise me every day and I eagerly wait to get surprised. That one time with the whipped cream, the one with fruits, and how can I forget the candle stuff! Uff! Just the thought of… Okay, I’m going off track. The thing is, I know it is difficult for you to talk about feelings and be a lovey-dovey person. You are very practical. But I’m a stupid ass when it comes to love. Like a showman, I throw in moxie, pizzazz, and most importantly I’m corny as fuck. I expect that. I wish you be more spontaneous and initiative. I understand that your way of expressing love is different than mine. But… Sometimes, I don’t want to fuck. I just want a flower.

Immediately, she stood up, held my hand, and jerked me off the table. She kept walking with her grip firm on my wrist. We went to the back corner of the café. The karaoke setup. There was a mic stand, a couple of cordless mics, a long cushion chair, speakers, and a big TV screen. She worked on the remote, browsing for songs. Is she going to sing? Am I going to sing? I looked around the room and thankfully it was empty, barring the staff. Still, I was anxious. I suck at singing. After finalizing the song, she smiled at me and winked. What is going on here? She adjusted the mic, sat on the chair, and handed me one of the wireless ones. I refused to take it. A serious stare and a smack on my forearm left me no choice so there I was, in an empty café, with a mic in my hand, my girlfriend next to me, and a glaring television screen. She signaled one of the staff to take a video of us performing. As much as I was dying of embarrassment, I found it extremely cute and was blushing all the while. She hit the play button and the intro music started… A perfect song for a cheesy mfer like me. I understood that there are a million ways to show love. It’s not the results that make love beautiful, but the efforts. The first lines of the song emerged on the screen and we sang together. Laughing and kissing and shouting and loving.

What would I do without your smart mouth?
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out
You’ve got my head spinning, no kidding, I can’t pin you down…