It was a Friday in March when I first saw her. I was attending a Yoga class in the gym offered by my employer at the time, and the instructor entered the room. She was a petite brunette whose smile spread across her face as she approached me with hand extended, and said, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure. My name is Adriana." I was instantly attracted to her. Her wide green eyes were so open and warm, and her presence was so sincere. I realized that her hand was awaiting mine, and so we shook and I said, "Butch."
I don't recall much about what we did in class that day, but I do remember her guided meditation. Her closing was, "Think of the seeds you have planted in your life which you would like to take root and bloom." At the time I was undergoing some pretty major change, and was still waiting to see some of the positive effects. Suffice it to say, her closing reached inside of my heart like an invisible hand and alleviated tenderness that was previously unnamed. I left the class uplifted. I was impressed by her holistic beauty. She was lucky enough to be born beautiful, she worked hard to take care of herself and keep a flawless appearance, and her light shone from within so brightly that it illuminated even some of my own inner darkness. It is quite possible that I fell in love with her on that day.
Of course I faithfully attended her class, even though it was probably below my skill level. I asked her to suggest a more challenging class, and she shared the name of another instructor, Renee, who taught a class at the same time on Thursdays. When I joined the following week, I was pleased to discover Adriana in attendance as well. It was a class and an instructor from whom I learned very much, in retrospect. At the time I was doing a lot of healing and changing, so it was very nutritious soul food to be attending these classes in which I was not only doing something very positive for myself, but also enjoying interactions with Adriana before and after, however brief.
After a month or so of this, I was telling a friend about her, who then started to look for information about her online. Her results came back negative: there was no evidence of a boyfriend to be found. In truth, there was not much information about her at all, except that she was in grad school. I wasn't interested in snooping, and didn't want to find out anymore about her that way, so I told my friend to stop. I had to say that to her more than once, but she did stop eventually. I just didn't want that to be how I got to know her.
My confidence swelled thinking there was no man in her life, even though I had a pretty strong feeling that she was hetero. Nothing could stop my heart from these feelings, and so I went on with the crush. I decided I wanted to give her a gift and ask her if she would allow me to take her to dinner. I spent an entire week preparing. I researched old fashioned courtship rituals and studied the art of gift giving. I decided that I wanted to give her something that had no other purpose than to give her pleasure. Since I did not know her, I felt like a mani/pedi gift certificate was a bit much. I settled on flowers. An important symbol in the new age sphere is the lotus flower, so that seemed like a good option. At first I thought I might grow one for her, but as it turns out, they are quite difficult to raise outside of their native habitat. I looked into ordering them, and that didn't work out for whatever reason. Then I stumbled upon origami lotus flowers. PERFECT!
I found tutorials online and taught myself the art of folding an origami lotus. It was a perfect task for me, because it allowed me to spend time thinking of her while doing something thoughtful. It was also a puzzle, which I love to solve. It took about half a day to fully understand and absorb it. Then I went out and bought heavier paper, as this fold is difficult enough that you will rip right through lighter stock when turning the petals out. I got my favorite pens and markers out and I spent the next few days before I was to see her again folding lotuses. On that Friday, I picked the most perfectly imperfect one of them all, and I even published a post on social media declaring my plans so that I would not chicken out.
In class that day, she finally mentioned her boyfriend. My heart imploded upon itself, but I did not stir. It was a feat of great self control not to run from the room, but I somehow managed to get through class without incident. Afterward I decided to give her the flower anyway. I approached her when her back was turned. When she turned around she was holding a ringing phone she had to answer. I awkwardly bestowed the gift. She hugged me, and answered her cell. I left the locker room defeated.
Less than five minutes after I arrived back to my desk my phone rang, and it was her. She was calling from her desk, and it was then that I learned her last name. She thanked me for the flower, and apologized for having to take the call. She suggested we grab coffee together sometime, as she finds me "terribly interesting."
There was just enough promise in this interaction to restore my mood. I remember now what she said then, because I remember every compliment she ever paid me in those first couple of months. Just like I remember when we were talking about how I foolishly push myself too hard in physical exercise, and she said it was my Warrior Spirit. Those were the comments that signaled to me that the way she looked at me was not the same as your typical straight girl. She could see more of me than others could. Unfortunately for both of us, I don't think she knew it was happening, or how it made me feel.
I did not take her up on her invitation to coffee right away. I was quite wary of being made to feel inadequate and dissatisfied by chasing someone I could never have. I kept going to Yoga, though, and along the way I discovered quite a few common interests that I can otherwise share with no one, like the fact that I was waking up at 4:30 am every day for training. One day she asked me what time I got up, I answered, and she blinked at me. I think she was stunned. She told me she does, too. My jaw must have dropped. It was then that I decided to make that coffee date.
It was in this fashion that seeds were planted, roots took hold, and something started to grow inside of me. My love for her bloomed and consumed my chest with beautiful blossoms. It was a season of sunshine and joy. I could see the risk looming ahead, and I did not care.The way that I felt about her and the things we shared, however minor they might have appeared to an outsider, filled me up with purpose in a way I had long since forgotten. It was my love for her that brought me to the realization that I had been suffering a great deal at the hands of "love" for far too long. I was invigorated and primed for the chase. I began to write poetry again after taking such a long hiatus from it that I actually convinced myself it was a younger man's trade. My heart was well again, and singing for her muse.
To be continued...
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