The unintended stare and its effect

I have thus decided, never stare.

Am on the bus again, heading home from a rather non-eventful day at the office. A man, with dark suit jacket, and dark glasses is sitting in front of me. I am not  trying to look at him, I don't have a habit of staring at people I don't know in public, but somehow I just feel that I am drawn to the back of him.

Just at that precise moment, he must have felt the stare or he has eyes on the back of his head, so he turns to look at me. Meeting my unintended gaze.

He does not recognize me, I do not recognize him. We establish a hurried stare, for a brief moment, eyes lock. Then he looks away and so do I.

But my heart sinks a little. He looks like someone I once have known.

Therein lays the problem.

We tend not to like to remember things we try to forget. People that affect us so, and then we try our best throughout our remaining life to forget about them.  Until they sneak up on you.

He reminds me of someone whom I never want to have in my conscious thoughts again.

A man with chiseled face, blond curly short hair, dark rim glasses and piercing blue eyes, 5’10”, fit, a Libra, not quite 8 years older than me, serious, often in a dark shirt or suit, soft spoken, mysterious, and loves me. Until he pretty much crushes me.

Every 22 year old should have story like that.

Because seriously how else do people end up on the couch?

When I tell my girlfriends that I used to date a spy, they think that I am joking.

But I did date a spy who did a lot of dirty work for the government.

The fact is not that he is a spy, but rather how I almost become his bride.

That little story I should probably wait to tell, when I have fully completed one year of couch session.

Suffice to say, since then, I am often drawn to certain type of men: blond, curly hair, wore glasses, dark suits with serious look and dark secrets, blue eyes.

This kind of makes me a bit of cliché.

We never really had in depth conversations, He and I. We simply had lots of sex, dark, unconventional sex, fun sex, and we did a lot of sporty activities together.  I never quite got to the point of getting to know him, he just repeatedly told me how much he enjoyed being with me, how he loved me and he was passionate about me when we met up.  I could feel it in my gut, it was an instinct, I felt that he cared for me and thought of me often when we were not together. He had given me nicknames, names no one knew or used ever again. Since we lived apart, each and every visit was quite memorable.

Then one day something terrible happened. We spent a year trying to reconcile everything to no avail.

Then one day, one day I decided it was time to move on.  I never saw him again.

Seventeen years later, part of me is still trying to move on, I realize that much.

None of us change. We are all imprinted with a pattern. We keep on searching for that one person who is our perfect match. We may get lucky once, or twice in our life time.

We can’t fight our primal desire. What we desire, in the most natural, inexplicable, and unaltered state, are the things we know that are core to our existence. We can bury it, substitute it, or even pretend that we can cut it out of our system, but at the end of the day, when all excuses fail, and you still desire that person without any rational explanation, then you know you have found your match.  It is therefore, difficult to get that out of your system.

Certain type of things in this world are meant to be, regardless of circumstances or obstacles.  And if we try we won’t be able to find a satisfying answer to explain away the unfathomable.  My therapist says that I have an unconventional life.  My duality is what fascinates her. She does not seem to understand how I can function in harmony. Harmony is an overstatement. I am always conflicted, sometimes fall into deep end. But I try to make do; we all try to make do.

I always know that I am different, ever since I am little I find what turns me on are quite different from the “norm”. My sexual preference has never been the garden variety.  I have met a person like that, until something terrible happened between us back in the early 90s.  

I may have met another person who is like me. Many years later. Circumstance is quite different this time, but obstacles are just as much if not more abundant.

I don’t know how to get out of it. I don’t want to. I don’t want to lose my match.

I just wait, wait for this story to end. I am marginally curious, how will this story end?

You tell me...