I now understand...

Before entering the room,

nervously, I prepared myself

to orient my mind

to orient their minds

to embrace a space that

I was not fully oriented to

myself.

Fugaciously embracing this space,

my own space,

my own mind.

Words lost in translation from my heart

to my head as my mind said to me:

Mr. Imposter, just keep that mature mask on for 45 minutes,

You can do it.

Mr. Too Young, just keep that Southern voice sure for 45 minutes

You’ve done it before.

Mr. Unsure, just keep those calming gestures steady for 45 minutes

You’re licensed to do so

Mr. Unsteady, just periodically produce a poised, poignant philosophical question about life, that appears unrehearsed, unplanned, and organically insightful every 7 to 9 minutes.

You will survive this meeting.

My heart asks, “Are we ready?”

My mind answered, “Yes, we are.”

I walked in.

The moment I saw her

was the moment my heart

removed my mind as its translator

or

maybe my mind knew it was time to step aside

The moment I saw her…

was the moment my heart

immediately

naturally,

somatically

honestly,

profoundly

answered my questions about love before my mind knew they were posed.

“Yes,” my heart said. “It’s possible to feel your entire body warmly held by the contours of another’s face.”

Her face reminded me of home (I realized years later).

“Yes,” my heart said. “When the universe widens your pupils, tunnel vision is still possible.”

Everyone was a blur, but her.

“No,” my heart said. “Time doesn’t really stand still. You just appreciate the gentle caresses of slowed motions.”

I savored every second before our eyes finally met.

“No,” my heart said. “Nothing can prepare you for this time.”

My mind went blank and became inconsequential.

“Yes,” my heart said. “Shame is carried away by the tides of love.”

I wanted to make the most cleveristicaliest, coquette-like professionalized, comment she’d ever heard in her life!

“Yes,” my heart said, “The body never lies.”

I robotically looked at everyone else to disguise my stares at her.

My tie felt too tight.

My shirt was vibrating.

I was afraid to trust my ability to walk.

“No,” my heart said, “Although lust will rush repeated waves of pleasure up through one’s daily fears to its climatic surfaces, love allows for many years to repeatedly surf the fears to balance the erratic while ebbing and flowing through nature’s daily treasures.”

I wanted her to know the real me as soon as possible.

“No,” my heart said, “magic is not real, magicians know the value of mirrors.”

She appeared to be

the feminine version of me

without the self-doubt

uncertainty or

other masked insecurities.

Allowing my being to feel loveable in the space she “magically” oriented

for me to embrace.

So, I took a leap.

Spoke my clever peace.

And failed miserably.

No regrets...