Thursday, February 24, 2005

Missing My Greek Goddess

Our first meeting was fate by way of contemporary technology. I was feeling rather bad about myself, my image, what I had endured in my life, so I spilled all these feeling onto My kidney transplant history and dialysis treatments are what peaked her interest.

It only took 2 e-mails to move her to call me. Our first conversation lasted 6 hours. The kind of conversation that you can only dream of having when you first meet someone you find so alluring. Her photo grabbed me and I should have known I was sunk. Her form, much like mine, had been stunted due to a childhood kidney transplant. She was so tiny, appearing so fragile. I couldn't have been more wrong.

Her eyes are what grabbed me a first, large, bright and full of agony. I could relate to that. Her raven hair ended just below her ears and she had the milkiest skin I'd ever experienced. I found her frighteningly beautiful, quirky and incredibly intelligent.

We spoke daily about every facet of our lives. Once the day began, I couldn't wait to get home and hear her voice tickle my ear. As our conversations continued, the dialogue became saucier, more than just gentle flirting. I was totally enthralled.

We finally met on a warm, balmy Saturday afternoon in Berkeley where she lived. Her dialysis treatments totally enveloped her entire life, so she wasn't employed and probably wouldn't have the energy to make it through our first date. We met at a little pizza place near the BART station and it wasn't anywhere near as entertaining as our phone conversations. I found out later that she was just as nervous as I was.

When the night was ending, and I drove her back to her apartment, I gave her a hug and kissed her on her cheek. I didn't have enough balls to taste her lips, so she grabbed mine. She had these full, soft lips that I had been fantasizing about kissing all night.

All in all, a fantastic date.

Now that I reflect back on my time with her, the beginning was so quick, so compacted into too many phone conversations and too few interactions.

I still call her from time to time, but she rarely calls back. I still send her e-mails and leave messages, but they go unanswered. I think she overdosed on my presence. Too much of Stacy is not a good thing.

Dark eyes, milky skin, raven hair. Opinions on everything, smart as a tack. When it comes down to it, I simiply wasn't good enough, smart enough or attractive enough. And it's probably for the best.