A Car Ride to Remember

I think I've started this blog three times, and I'm determined to get my thoughts out this time. It's been a while since I've written anything, maybe because I've just had too many thoughts to give enough attention to any one topic. At least until last weekend...

It all started with my typical visit to the barber to get a cut. I hate to go, mainly because of my barber ( from here on referred to as Cecil) and his overbearing attitude. He spends a lot of time really trying to tell me how to live, especially since I told him about my decision to transfer my job across the country. He doesn't agree with my decision, but really I don't think he knows me well enough to have the right to make any kind of comment.

The one thing that has made my trips to the barber even partially enjoyable was the chance to glimpse the cute guys that naturally frequent. On one particular trip, I met this guy Will, who I mentioned in my Weakness blog. He was a friend of Cecil's who used to work at the shop, and was helping out while he was in town for a few days. I flirted a bit, but since he was just a visitor, I didn't give him too much thought. However, when I called to make an appointment and Will answered the phone, I was pleasantly suprised. I started hoping that he'd still be there on Friday when I actually went in, and he was. Cecil dominated the conversation as usual, so I didn't get much of an opportunity to engage Will in a casual chat, but I was able find out that he was back in town for good, and also that he remembered me from his previous visit. We did a little more joking, teasing and flirting, and by the time I left the salon I felt pretty nice, despite the fact that I'd agreed to attend church with Cecil and the family the following Sunday.

I wasn't too excited about having to get up at 7:30 AM Sunday morning. Being that I work late, that's often just about the time I'm crawling into my bed. I made the sacrifice however because I felt the need to keep my promise, so I pulled myself together, and threw on a nice sweater and a decent pair of slacks. And when I pulled up to Cecil's house and saw Will walking out of the front door, dressed so nicely in a jacket and pants, I knew that I'd made the right decision. I was elated to see him, excited at the chance to spend more time with him. My excuberance was flattened a few minutes later however, when he informed me that women in his church only wear dresses. I should have been prepared, as I'd noticed before that the women in Cecil's family never seemed to wear pants. Normally, I wouldn't really even go to place with such a restrictive rule, but since I was already there, Will was there, and I wanted to repect their beliefs, I quickly donned a borrowed skirt and jumped into the car for the 45 minute drive. I worried about what to expect ahead. Cecil had told me on a previous occasion that it was wrong for women to cut their hair, so I was prepared to experience some crazy cult stuff out there in the desert. But basically the service was normal, albeit long, and I found that I actually enjoyed the experience overall. By the time we started our drive back, I was feeling good, relaxed and mellowed, and totally unprepared for what happened next.

Have you ever had a talk with someone that changed you somehow? That's what happened with me and Will. It started out simply, me mentioning his choice to move back to Boise and give up his construction contracting business in Reno. But it quickly turned into far more than that. I've tried to write what was said, but nothing that I can type truly conveys the depth of our discussion. He questioned my responses to what he had to say, and he forced me to justify my own decisions to move, even went as far as telling me that he didn't agree with my plans. During that brief drive through the mountains, he pushed me to give of myself more than any person in the last two years, and I did it easily, for him. Although he opened up about his own situation, in response to what I'd said, he left me with only vague statments about why he thought I should stay. He never made a single solid gesture that he even liked me, but when I left the car, I felt like my center had been tilted by him and his words.

And that's pretty much where I'm at now, pondering the meaning of our talk. I can't stop thinking about him. I wonder why I allowed him to ask the things he asked, why I even gave him the right to pass judgement on what I had planned. I think about the way his words drew me into his feelings, and the improtance that I assigned to his opinions. I replay everything over and over, trying to find some concrete detail about his feelings for me. I have these strong feelings for him, so unlike a whimsical crush, and so different that meeting some guy in a club. I know I'm a different person than the one that got into his car that morning, and I no longer even think about him the fine-ass guy at the shop, as I once had. The thought that I might be wrong about his feeling sends me into a panic, and I can't breathe when thoughts of him run through my head. This isn't typical behavior for me, but this man is consuming me. I just don't know why.

He didn't ask for my number, although I feel and overwhelming urge to see him again, every day. I tried to think up excuses to go and see him, but I don't feel like that behavior is in the spirit of the feelings that I have. I have finally found a concrete reason for a visit, however, and I have every intention of telling him that I've thought long and hard about our discussion, and seeing where that leads. I know this enty is very jumbled, and I apologize, but that's exactly the way that I feel. I'll keep you posted on the details...