Walking alone on a beautiful day, I could feel the warmth and sunshine. My skin soaked up the vitamin D like a sponge. As much as I loved being outside, I just wanted to escape from the negative voices in my head so I drowned them out with headphones by listening to podcasts. It was easier to listen to other people since I had been doing it my whole life. I obeyed them so well and I did exactly as I was told. Sometimes the voice in my head reminded me of my mother, and other times, I thought it was me. As the years went on, the voices blended together and I no longer knew which one was my own, or if my own voice still existed. There were times the voice became a man’s, similar to my husband’s. I often was at a lost for words and had a difficult time making decisions. Anxiety would overwhelm me and cause panic attacks on a weekly basis, stomach issues, and OCD tendencies. Drowning the voices only numbed my pain and made life bearable, but not enjoyable. So the few minutes in the sun always did me some good.
I felt light and in control. Restricting food made life livable. It gave me something that was constant and simple among this crazy world called life. I forgot about my own living Hell. Since as young as seven-years-old, I have memories of social anxiety when I was held back in second grade. I was often told I was too small and my mother even nicknamed me ‘china doll’.
But today, I didn’t feel fragile. Sure, I was small, but strong. I could feel things no one else could. I could absorb other people’s feelings, get senses when I touched things, and read people’s stories through body language just by having a conversation. So on my way to church when I was stopped by a young man with broad shoulders and dark features, I felt a sense of life come back into me. He straddled a mountain bike and wore a black bicycle helmet. I made a mental note that this man was intelligent enough to wear a bike helmet to protect his brain which was a sign of some level of common sense. His thick eyebrows shaped his face making his eyes stand out and seem vulnerable. He stood tall, over a head taller than me, but was about an average height and build. His posture was strong and stable. I felt a twinge of jealously at the confidence he portrayed. Despite his confidence, I could see he seemed unsure and looked at me for guidance. Excitement welled up inside me for I was always ready to help another.
I’m not really sure how I knew to stop walking or if he said a small ‘Hey’, but I sensed a need for help from a fellow human being and wanted to be of service to him. “If I keep following this trail, will it lead me to this bike shop?” he asked. I knew exactly where it was, since I walked everywhere around town. With the GPS opened on his phone, he showed me the path he was following.
Searching his face to be certain he was paying attention, I replied, “I’m sure you’ll find it. Just keep following the path and it will be across the street, a little to the right when you hit a break in the trail.”
His eyes hovered on my face while I explained the directions. I felt a little uncomfortable being noticed. There was something real about the way he concentrated on me, almost like he was interested in more than mere directions. He proceeded to ask, “What’s your name?” I thought that it was an odd question, but maybe he was just being friendly. The man waited patiently with a serious look on his face.
Without hesitation, the answer came out of my mouth, “Erin.” Sometimes I am so naive that I even surprise myself. Here was a stranger and I didn’t even think twice about rattling off my name. I might as well have told him my phone number and address as well. *Eye roll on the inside*.
“Erin,” he echoed back to show he was listening and was interested. I noticed him intently staring at my face as it sent chills down my body all the way to my stomach. Maybe he was just being polite by looking me in the eyes, or he was focusing so he could get the directions right. His eyes were kind, the type that seem so familiar that you wouldn’t mind staring into them for hours. I could get lost in those eyes. They were genuine with honest dark pupils that drew me in. I tried not to scan his appearance too much for I was on my way to visit with Jesus and I was married after all. Something about tall, dark and handsome men always fascinated me, but for some reason, my husband was nothing of the sort. I had married a light skinned, light brown haired man with a little bit of a belly since he had aged and continued to drink on a consistent basis. Breathing in the moment, I could feel the youth in this handsome young man. A part of me was mesmerized by this whole situation.
After I explained the directions a second time to ensure he understood, he looked down at the map on his phone. Without a thank you and considering his break in eye contact, I assumed we were finished and would part our separate ways. I put my earbuds back in and as I turned and began walking away, the mystery man called out, “Where are you going?”
Like a magnet, I quickly turned around and pulled out one earbud to hear his response to my own, “Mass,” I loudly stated.
“Like Massachusetts,” he questioned. The confused look on his face was kind of cute and endearing. Had he never heard of Mass before? Maybe he just wasn’t fully aware that Catholics call their services Masses. I thought that was an interesting response and wasn’t quite sure why he even cared where I might be going. Was he expecting me to physically show him the way to the bike shop? I am really great at sensing people, but really bad at reading their intentions. I probably looked just as confused as him, only less cute.
I couldn’t help but chuckle a little on the inside, “No, like church,” I called back over my shoulder. I’m pretty sure I felt my cheeks stretch my aging skin. “Right over there at St. Bridget’s,” I responded in haste and motioned toward to church building with my hand. Mass was starting any moment, not to mention that it was a Holy Day of Obligation, so it would be more crowded. I turned away and kept walking.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he shouted back. He must have been shouting pretty loudly for me to hear over my earbuds. I didn’t realize he was that lonely and desperate. His puppy eyes made me wish I had a moment and a lifetime to spare. My depression made me lonely most of the time too. I’m not sure I heard his words correctly…boyfriend?
Wait, What?! I had thought the conversation was over. I couldn’t believe the words I had just heard. I felt dumbfounded. He had to be so much younger than me. My wedding and engagement rings alone should have deterred any interest he may have had in me. I whipped around and pulled out one of my earbuds again. “I’m married,” I responded without hesitation, like the quicker I answered, the sooner this uncomfortable situation could be over. Oh, the irony. I smiled to myself and shook my head a little in disbelief, feeling flattered that he was interested in me. I left him standing there alone, rejected, and humiliated. I kind of felt bad about that, but I really was in a hurry.
I realized that I hadn’t had much manly attention from my husband lately, so it felt nice to be noticed. He even mistook me for someone younger. How young did he think I was to have a boyfriend? He definitely must have been interested to ask his final question. With regrets of not going back, I moped into my beautiful home church. Zoned out still thinking about this stranger, I completely didn’t even respond to the greeters as I entered the church. Subconsciously, I’m pretty sure they said, “Hello” and maybe I replied. If I had, it was definitely automatic. Why did I care what his intentions were? Wasn’t I married? Doesn’t being married make a girl live happily ever after? That’s what movies have led women to believe. What if, this moment was a new beginning? What if, this mystery man was ‘the one’? I couldn’t help but daydream about him. He was so confident, smooth, and in the moment. Even his confusion and desperation got the better of me. I wanted so badly to have someone to love and want me. My husband treated me poorly and often left me alone and in turn, I became lonely and depressed in his absence. When he was around, he expected me to wait on him hand and foot like Cinderella.
When I was young, I was attracted and pursued by an older man who appeared to have it all together. James Alonzo Cole was fairly wealthy, good looking, and had a wit about him in public that made me laugh, or it at least, it used to. After years of marriage, the light inside my heart for Jim had dimmed and I no longer felt like I was living. He had become controlling, overbearing, and manipulative as he had job promotion after job promotion. The company was worth more to him than I was. Now as one of the heads of his legal firm, he had big decisions to make and little people under him to do the dirty work. Unfortunately for me, he treated me worse than his lowest employee and took great pleasure in it.
Living a very controlled and predictable life had the disadvantages of not knowing how to deal with anything spontaneous. I always admired people who just did what they wanted or thought without questioning or concern about what other people might think. As a homebody, I had never really ran into many situations where I may meet other men. I only met my husband through a friend at church who insisted on setting us up, claiming we would be perfect for each other. But something like this awkward meeting? No, I would never imagine getting another opportunity like this. He never even gave his name. As a naive woman, realizing when a guy is hitting on me is not my strong suit. I couldn’t help but want to run into him again. But when?
As I sat in Mass, scenarios kept running through my head about what could, should, or would have happened if I had realized sooner in our short conversation that he was, in fact, interested in me. My circular thinking was annoying me, but I couldn’t stop obsessing about how intriguing he was, or was it just because he was interested in me? Maybe if he hadn’t shown interest, I wouldn’t care so much. But I couldn’t help but wonder what he saw in me. What might it be like to date someone again? I could reinvent myself. No, that never works. My imperfections would show eventually. Maybe he would be different than Jim. What if this was my chance to get out of my horrible relationship and start new again?
Jim looked over and glared at me. Was it that obvious that I was daydreaming? I definitely didn’t want to be sitting next to him, and oh, that stare, it sent shivers down my spine. It was like he was staring down a dog and exerting control over me. I curled my arms up around me to comfort my inner child.
I thought about when I converted to Catholicism how light and unburden I felt. Jesus had given me a new life and I wanted that feeling again. I felt pure and undefiled, not the whore Jim made me out to be. The youth of the skin on this mystery man was untainted and smooth. He was tall, strong, bold and he didn’t know my past. I desperately wanted to be whole again. When Jesus claimed me as his daughter, I felt worthy. That was the feeling I was longing for.
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