The new guy on the shuttle looks a lot like M. I've seen him on every 5 o' clock shuttle for the past month, yet my body reacts to him without my permission every day, at every sighting. As soon as his head emerges from the bus' staircase, my pulse quickens, my eyes widen, and my lungs pull in a sharp, noisy breath. I usually become conscious of his presence and my gaping mouth in the same instant. As I clamp my jaw shut, I notice that I have not yet exhaled, so I let it drop again. I release my breath slowly through my mouth while my mind races.
"What if he looks over here? What do I do if he sees me? Do I look away? Smile? Maybe I should look away now. That might keep him from noticing me. But what if he doesn't notice me? How will I get his attention?"
I'm surprised he never notices (or at least acknowledges that he's noticed) my eyes desperately searching his features in disbelief. I imagine him generous for this.
Inevitably, this man's hair brings me back to reality. It's a bit wild -- long, like M.'s but not as straight or shiny. He has a winsome smile and dimples like M.'s, but his face is wider, his eyes smaller. He's not nearly as handsome. Or maybe he's as handsome to another woman as M. was to me. I'd have to love him to know.
This lasts only a moment, and when I remember that M. is miles and years and heartaches away, I feel silly. I wonder if the man who is not M. sees my daily embarrassed smile and nod, and what he must think of me if he does. Sometimes I feel I should offer a casual, "You look like a man I once loved," as an explanation, but sanity mercifully returns and intervenes.
As I turn to the window both in relief and disappointment, I always wonder how long it will take for my heart to stop racing.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
We'd like pictures of you and your environs. We all haven't been to Boston, so even pictures of the subway would be welcome.
Also, take pictures of the roommates. As you talk about them, I can't picture them. Also, take a picture of your house. I haven't seen it. Take a picture of M-look-a-like when he isn't looking. Take a picture of your building at work and your office. That isn't illegal is it?
Do not feel badly about yourself. You are a rose among thorns, a paragon of animals, a princess, an icon, a government worker. (I belive they call that anticlimax.)
You are a talented writer Mere.
You capture the moment so well!
Good Job Mere! I really like your writing style.
Yes, what Joanne said! I've totally been there. And I love "You look like a man I once loved."
Post a Comment