October 21, 2008 - 8:15 p.m.
The last twelve months of suffering finally ended on October 12th, 2008. The moment she made eye contact across the outdoor cafe. Patio full of women watching live music on a warm, sunny, Fall afternoon. Months of settling for online games and identities hidden behind screen names, locations, body types gone. Dissolved. No longer disillusioned in a city with lots of trees and famous wine.
The beautiful, feminine tomboi walked up to the bar, held out her hand, and introduced herself to me. I was stunned. Shocked. I already knew the striking beauty's name. Saw her band in concert last month near my new home. I smiled sheepishly, trying to hide red cheek embarrassment of feeling on cloud nine. Feeling like a beautiful, attractive, middle age woman. After months of pedaling on the bicycle trails, dropping excessive pounds brought on by chemo-induced medicine. Chipmunk cheeks less swollen and my face mine again. Her lithe, athletic body chiseled from many years of beating on drums and strumming a guitar. Melted my heart. A puddle on the ground. A real live, breathing, talking, musical woman. Downplaying her success in a sleeveless white shirt, cargo pants, and bare feet. I offered to buy her a drink. She said "Why sure". And ordered a Corona light. We exchanged first names and small talk about work related travel. The next female band was getting ready to perform. She thanked me for the beer. I returned to my seat with a delicious, large size margarita on ice with salt around the plastic cup's rim. It truly was refreshing. On my left was a soft butch in shorts and sandals. I was sitting comfortably in my seat when lead sister walked over, gave me a hug, thanked me again for the beer, and said something about me leaving the bar before she had a chance to properly thank me. OMG! Did I miss out on a public display of affection, a passionate kiss from her sweet lips... I could hardly contain my enthusiasm. Then she returned to her seat. I wish I brought along a business card to give her. I told myself she wouldn't be seriously interested in me. She's probably the steady girlfriend or life partner with someone (lead guitar player) in the band. I'm going to attend her band's concert in November. This time, I'm bringing along a business card with my name and number printed on it.
Postscript: She gave me confidence to deal with people in the human flesh. I will no longer respond to ones and zeros in cyberspace. No longer allow someone to correspond online without a proper introduction and sharing of real, current photographs. Actual locations of residence. I'm not going to be controlled or manipulated any longer by game players and charismatic sociopaths.
~ Soldier Girl
