PURE FICTION

My Quiet One

We were almost there.

Everyone called her, “The Quiet One”, but to me, she was anything but quiet. The way her personality stood out above the others spoke loudly. Her smile screamed, “I am happy to meet you”. The way her eyes sparkled, like diamonds against a black velvet cloth intrigued me. Her playful expression made me want more.

The pure sense of delight I experienced at each encounter spoke for itself. I could not help but fall for her the moment I saw her.

I started slowly, not wanting to scare her away. Moving too fast would surely make me seem needy. Each day, like a peacock, I unfurled my feathers with witty sayings and tempting images. All the time praying, she would take notice. Hoping she would seek my friendship, my warmth, my devotion.

At first, I extended her a fleeting glance in passing. Hoping she might notice me. I simply wanted her to acknowledge my existence. Then I spoke up louder and in a more prominent voice. While I did not direct my comments to her, I made them in such a manner that she could not ignore me.

The strategy worked. Over time, she responded to my overtures. Soon we were exchanging ideas, offering opinions, and sharing the occasional laugh. We revealed our inner thoughts about life, love, and our future. She was no longer The Quiet One, and I could see deep into her soul. It was as if our love affair had been “pre-approved” by Cupid, no arrow necessary.

When she changed her hairstyle, she hadn’t even left the salon before she asked me my thoughts on her new look. One day, she got a diamond-studded nose ring that contrasted with her ebony skin. She could not wait to see if I approved. With each change, she looked even more beautiful than when we first met.

I tried desperately to keep her attention. I bought new clothes that met with her approval. To look younger, I shaved my beard. When I showed her my new car, she begged me to take her for a ride. It took a long time but little by little I was winning her over.

Each time we chatted; my heart leaped with joy. Each night when we were apart, I wrestled in my sleep, anticipating tomorrow. A chance for us to meet again and resume our love affair.

We had come from different places only to meet in the here and now of our lives, as if destiny had called us to this place.

Then on a morning much like today, I made a mistake. I told her an off-color joke. I meant the comment to be funny. To her, it was insulting. In an instant, she changed. She grew cold, aloof, distant. Like her pseudonym, she became The Quiet One again.

Over and over, I looked for her, but she wasn’t there. Gone like a ghost. Our love affair was lost in the cloud. A figment of my imagination.

Then came the notice. They had blocked our interaction. It was over, I would never Tweet my quiet one again.

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