Mandy posted an entry about her dear friend Spencer today. It made me want to write an entry about him too. I've been working on an entry about him but I never find the words I need...
I've tried to write this as a fairytale for quite some time now. It's my fairytale. The problem is I don't know how it ends yet. I don't know if the last words of it will be "...and they lived happily ever after", or if there'll be crying and sad stuff in the end. But the other day, the other main character in this story, Spencer himself, said the magic words: "It's a win/ win situation no matter what. It's either a friendship or a relationship!" and with that I let the heavy cloud of expectation dissolve in the sunlight.
Now I'm at a loss for words again, when it comes to telling the actual story... So I'll cheat. I'll use words I already wrote. A year ago from Saturday (July 2) I found a photo on the internet. This photo:
I clicked it and then my life changed. I wrote this text four weeks later under the title
In the grey mass of No-one-in-particulars one pair of eyes shone through. There were so many thoughts in them. Click.
In there I found a sentence that made me smile. Click.
So I wrote a few lines and sent them. I don’t usually do that.
In return I got a page full of humour, warmth and personality. It was written in an unpretentious and seemingly unplanned way, where each well chosen word came as a pleasant surprise. I got the story of Tracy McKee and her pierced toes. I got little jokes and word games that weren’t the least bit cheap or far fetched. I got beautiful words about my words. He said he liked my eyes, because there were so many thoughts in them, so I clicked again. In to the next program and in to that Friday night…
And I got more words. More of those beautiful, well chosen, personal, recognisable words. He was two hours late for something he was supposed to do with some friends that night. I didn’t go to bed until after four in the morning. We did not want to stop talking.
The next day he had bought a camera and I didn’t even get scared. We saw. We heard. We talked. And talked. I found myself in somebody else. That has only happened once before.
We saw each other’s reflections in each other’s eyes. Eyes that had so many thoughts in them. And I found parts of myself in him, that I didn’t know I had missed, until now when I found them. And he said he found parts of him in me, that he didn’t know he had missed, until now when he found them.
We have shared in one month, what it usually takes a year of friendship to share. We talk. And read. And discuss. And smile. And talk. We say “me too” and “we’ll see”.
It’s all I ever wanted, wrapped up in the same package as all I never wished for. It’s all I long for, within the same soul as all that I fought hard to get rid of. It’s understanding in the same sentence as a question mark? It’s all I believe in the same idea as all that I’m opposed to.
There is cat food in the dog’s bowl.
I’m fascinated, interested, intrigued, curious and scared. I’m not afraid of water, but the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean frightens me. I’m not afraid to fly, but the thought of someone else getting on a plane makes me terrified. At the same time the adventure is alluring. Pulling. Demanding.
I can’t say no, because it would be as if a new part of myself came and sat down on my couch and talked to me. And continued to talk to me. And continued to smile with me. And finally, I would get to meet those eyes. Those eyes with so many thoughts in them.
My hands are shouting to meet him.
A year of almost daily contact has passed. I feel like I know him inside and out. His friends have become my friends. But I still haven't met him. Yet.
He arrives here the day after tomorrow and I can't tell how it feels. Imagine every feeling there is, then add more of everything and stir. Then throw it all out the window and see what you're left with. That's where I am. I have no idea. I just know it feels a lot. He'll stay for about two weeks, and I promise I'll try to find the words to at least finish the fairytale after that. Whether it's happily ever after, or if it's a "just friends" kind of ending.
My hands are still shouting to meet him.