Mar 05 2009
Lady in waiting
I am waiting for her. This is a peculiar situation, because she is better at waiting than I am, and yet it is my turn to test my skills. This is a business trip for one of us, and a pleasure trip for both. I have never played so much on the verge of risk…or I did, once, when I sneaked into a colleague’s bedroom in the middle of the night, losing the rest of my workmates until dawn came to call.
This time it is more open than that, because she is staying with me in the same room. This time it is not about risk, but about trust. Congress attendees suddenly inspire no fears about how wise it actually is to indulge in this when almost everyone is accompanied by their wives, and those who are not sometimes just walk a thin line between gallantry and the exciting possibility of a one-night stand.
Still, oblivious to the world outside this room in a tiny and dream-like Guanajuato, I am waiting for her. I am trying not to anticipate, for I know that some scripts go wrong when only one actor is rehearsing them. Even though she seems resilient to pre-conceived stories that go amiss, this woman with “no expectations” still carries a veil that suggests to me she should be treated with care. As in a Henry James vignette, even when she shows more than she tells, she does so imperceptibly.
I like her more than I would have ever imagined. She gives me calm, and lets my own little freak side go out to play and quote movies that nobody saw to make a minor point about something. She knows about my stationery fetish, and puts up with the fussy psychologist that resides somewhere in me and needs to find a logic behind almost everything. Because she knows me more than she has, or because she thinks so, and I concur, I am now waiting for her. She has earned my trust and she is slowly winning my heart.
Mucha merde! No hay que anticipar, pero si esperar con optimismo.
Beso
If she gives you calm, then stay.
A todos alguna vez nos toca esperar por alguien.
Saludos.
Querida W:
No caiga en el “cliché” (je je) de cumplir con los refranes, no desespere, guarde energía, la calma llegará… como todo.
De cualquier manera, el pequeño gran grupo que me circunda y yo, estaremos arriando la energia hacia su costado, nunca se sabe cuando puede necesitarlo uno . Mientras tanto, continue escribiendo, le sienta bien este color y esta temperatura a sus palabras.
La saludo cariñosamente!
PD: perdí el 1º comentario por la “bendita idea” de los nº….ahhhhh ufff grg rg rg, se queda con la versión abreviada y emparchada ahora.
Hi, Verónica
Thank you for stopping by. Certainly waiting is an art…I hope one day I’ll do it exceptionally well. In the meantime, I’m learning…
Regards,
W.
Dear Erica,
Optimism is there, even when the tides are really turning quite roughly, to be honest. Thank you for your wishes, as I imagined, she was more than worth the wait.
Thanks and talk to you soon!
W.
Dearest,
I am sorry about the little maths trick I had to introduce, but I recently got spammed out of my mind with inadequate comments and I had to change the default spam protection add-on with this thing I found online.
I do not think this is about despair, it is probably about hope against hope — eventually, that can turn into despair. My dear, I will more than need your support now that a Beatrice-like figure has crossed my path. I’m glad you liked the post, it was a flash of reflection in yesterday night’s waiting session.
More on this later,
Warmest regards,
W.
Barthes decía por ahí que “la espera” es el ejercicio del rol más puramente femenino. Las mujeres esperaban (como la hermosa Gretchen am Spinnrade: y dejaría como sugerencia la escucha casi hipnótica de ese lieder para estos momentos) mientras los compañeros cazaban monstruos y otras yerbas. La mayor marca de sabiduría, creo yo, es quedarse a la espera con los monstruos privados, dejar pasar el tiempo y aprender a habitar ese tiempo de incertidumbre (porque siempre la hay).
Me ha tocado partir, me ha tocado esperar. Siempre lo he encontrado enriquecedor.
Un beso
Miss Fiamma,
You are absolutely right…waiting is a feminine experience, reinforced by Schubert’s lied in a cool night far away from the chosen one. Inhabiting the measure of time — to be or not to be with the object or subject of ultimate love — is also part of the game…and perhaps not being drowned in the extremes of anguish and relief the passive act itself proposes.
Thank you again for stopping by, and for suggesting Gretchen…I am now listening to Fleming’s live version of the lied. It is true…it enhances the experience.
See you around.
Regards,
W.