The Oasis

Near my oasis I am sitting on the sand. I have a large tent and there a cool breeze. I am reclined and my feet are massaged but an able-bodied (that can mean a myriad of things if you think about it) man and I offer the cool water of my oasis to the parched pilgrims that wander past.

I have found my oasis and have stopped to rest. If this is what Man Mecca has in store for me then I venture forward with renewed zeal.

He brought me flowers on our fifth date – which was more like hanging out in front of the TV. This really struck me because there would be no onlookers to impress, the flowers were to stay in my room and there would be no fan fare. They were not roses, but wildflowers and he came to the heart of the ghetto at almost 11pm, I don’t know how far he had to go out of his way or if he bought them from a bum on the corner for a spit shine, I was impressed. What impressed me even more was the single white (long stem, a detail that must never be overlooked) rose that he brought on his second visit to my home at 1am the last night.

He called me at work and offered to bring lunch up to my office! I was so surprised, there was nothing to gain from doing that. He offered to drive me home. And then called few minutes ago to ask if I would grant him an hour of my presence.

I know three months ago I would have gaffed at his approach and probably ridiculed his efforts but after living behind an emotional wall for so long fortified by countless disappointments. I have been chastising myself for not maintaining a better reign on my enthusiasm. I don’t know why, but I have determined that it is a bad thing for me to be excited about this new person in my life. I do not know why I was so quick to accept him into my life wholeheartedly (of course within reason, it is not like I have made the man an extra set of keys for my apartment…yet). I am just worried that I have fallen for “Fool’s Gold”. That this Oasis is my mirage of dreams I wish to come true.

If he is a liar, an has three kids, a wife and a dog somewhere and is unemployed, not really a West Indian and our chance meeting wasn’t really chance and I am really part of a more elaborate plot…then for the fantasy that he has woven around me, the attention, the tenderness and fun, I am grateful. It is a welcomed break from the mundane of solitude. Strong black woman is nothing if there isn’t something to contrast the strength. How am I strong if there are no experiences and peoples (good and bad) to make me stronger.

I have spent so much trying to prevent my feelings from being hurt, that even now when I am disappointed it is something that I was able to predict way before actually occurred. I was speaking to a guy I was interested in not to long ago and he wanted to come over and visit with me for a few. I told him that he was welcome and that it was be “great” for us to see each other after so long but that he was not going to “keep his promise” and for the sake of conversation and the very fabric of lies, broken promises and disappointments that our entire friendship has been built upon I would expect no more or less of him but love him all the same. He would be the train that “simply couldn’t”! He did not respond to this but assured me that he would be by shortly. He never showed, I was not surprised and not in the slightest hurt. I had predicted, prepared and passed over the incident without one scar. I did not call to ask if he was coming or to ask “what happened?” in that laughing I-was-just-wondering voice. But nodded off the incident like all the others that have been very much like that lately.

My ex-boyfriend and current friend told me that I expect too much. When did people become such disappointments?

I have found my Oasis. When he can not fulfill a promise he calls, explains and makes plans to fulfill. I don’t feel let down and cheated. I am not being placated because I don’t have to throw a tantrum to make my feeling perfectly clear. I don’t get mad and level his ego with words but am content in his presence and just has happy when we are lying in the dark not saying a word.

There is more room in this relationship for growth. More secrets to be shared and the comfort level to grow, but for the most part (as slow, careful relationships go I am happy with where this is).

I love the fact that he is so busy but makes time for me. Not like I am so busy that even when I am not I must mention and harp on how busy I am or think I am.

I have been on this pilgrimage and I am not sure if Man Mecca is something that you much search for. I am beginning to wonder about my assets, am I worthy to journey into a relationship with all of my expectation and a half-healed heart and a horribly mangled ego? I am certain this is what it must have felt like to watch the Berlin Wall crumble.