Directors cut, this time w/ 70% more metaphor

I’ve only been able to not think about her for a few moments at a time. The longest moment I was able to not think about her was when I was thinking about my future financial situation. But sure enough, thoughts of her came back. I know that she is now in *********** visiting family. I wonder what she is doing there. I wonder if she is thinking about me at all. I just wish there was some way I could predict the future, just for a short enough time to know if she landed one of the jobs here in the valley. Well, maybe that’s something I shouldn’t wish for. Who knows what could happen if I had such information; as much as it could help my situation, it could just as easily hinder it.

This whole situation has just built up so much suspense. Its like a movie that has me on the edge of my seat, I can’t wait to see what happens next. But it shouldn’t be that way. I shouldn’t be a passive viewer wondering what will happen next, but a director, taking hold of the outcome of this flick.

I just have this overwhelming feeling of tension, discomfort that I can’t get rid of. It feels like the next few moments of my life are incredibly critical. The fate of my happiness in the near future hangs in the balance.

I tried playing Warhawk last night and I sucked!  My KDR was about .33 for the three games I played. My average is normally about 1.5. This is how distracted I am about this whole situation. I have a hard time sleeping at night because I sit up and wonder what it would be like to go out on a date with her.

I don’t know if this is something that everyone feels. Surely somebody else has felt this because clichéd sayings such as ‘love at first sight’ exist.

The first woman I had this type of feeling for was Sarah ****** in grade school. Then there was Brandy ****** and another girl, whose name I can’t remember, in Junior High. But Brandy was the one whom I had the most intense feelings for during that period. Around that time was Jennifer *******, a girl I had met on a cruise ship. Then Stephanie ****** came along towards the end of Jr. High and the beginning of high school. She was someone else whom I had fallen hard for. Caryn ****** was the source late in High School. The only one of all time that I had this feeling for that I actually started a relationship with. Then it was Gina ********* while I was in college. With the exception of Caryn, my overwhelming feeling of anxiety and depression kept me from acting on these feelings and pursuing relationships. Even with Caryn, I did not initiate a relationship, she did.

And now, there is Kate. I can’t remember her last name, unfortunately. I only heard it once and I didn’t retain it. But she has stirred up this feeling in me. This feeling, of course, cannot be accurately described. I just know that I have only had this feeling with a handful of women that I’ve met in my life. It is unmistakable. It begins as a small, weak attraction that quickly strengthens. It is the only feeling I’ve had in life that leads me to believe in Fate. It is because of this feeling that I believe that we do not have 100% control in our lives. But that is not to say that Fate is all we have. Fate will only take you so far, but it is your actions upon what Fate has provided you that determines your successes and failures in life. I have many regrets when I think back on all that Fate has presented me…with which I have done nothing.

I believe Fate brought us together to that table after the ceremony where I helped clean up the luncheon that was held after the ceremony. That is where the spark began. Most people state things such as, "I felt the spark the moment we met." But I don’t think this is true. I think they are mistaking this feeling with the proto-flame that is a result of the spark. I don’t think the spark is as easily felt. I do not believe it is like a spark in a dark room. A spark in a dark room is blatantly obvious because it is the only point of light for our visual sense. But to me, sparks are much more subtle, like those cast on a late day when you are attempting to build a fire for the night. Compared to the fleeting sunlight of a sundown, and among all the colored light that reaches your retinas from the various bits of foliage, camping equipment, and the sky itself, a small spark can easily be left unnoticed. This is how I would describe the ‘spark’ I felt at that table. It was there, but barely discernable between the light emitting and reflecting objects that are the myriad of other feelings I had at that time.

The full nature of these sparks is still yet unknown to me. Do they always propagate into the full on blaze, of which I am currently experiencing? Does this miraculously occur devoid of fuel, in an environment full of fuel, or in some state in between? If there is some form of a fuel, what is it composed of? Do these sparks fizzle out at times? Are the only noticed when they become a blaze?

In any case, this blaze began to grown during the reception that was held after the luncheon at the resort. As I stated previously, this feeling began to grow as I stole more glances throughout the evening. It climaxed to a small campfire when our eyes met, a fire comforting and warm. One that you could sit in front of and watch dance forever. I held onto that feeling for as long as I could, I threatened to stoke the fire for a little more warmth when I considered asking for a dance, but I was afraid of getting to close to this fire. I feared it. So I let it be.

Then before I knew it, she was leaving. Retreating to the main lobby of the resort presumably to gather her stuff to return home, I saw the fire dim. Talking with another group down the hall from her I watched her from afar, hoping she would turn around and attempt to glance at me one more time, kind of like in the movies. It did not happen. When she entered the building, the fire was extinguished. Only the heat of the smoke was left. I missed that heat already. The cold began to bite. Sounds of unknown wildlife, previously masked by the crackle of the flame and held back by the light of the flame, began to come forth. I wondered if I would ever see her again.

Before long I was back to the cold I had become accustomed to. A bit more bitter than I had remembered, probably because of my short stint with flame. I will admit it did bring a bit of a shiver to my bones.

Then I walked into my house after work the next day. Holy shit, there she was! The smoldering ash has suddenly become a bonfire! I walk away for just a few moments from the campsite and come back to wooden pallets burning fiercely, a small roar filing the night sky pushing away the darkness and the cold! Like a primitive native I danced around the blaze, rejoicing in its power! I became drunk with its power, transferring all this heat energy towards me, I laughed and howled at the moon, whose light was pathetic compared to the blaze! Even as she gave her goodbyes to our family and I, I cherished thi

s flame and felt grateful for the experience.

Then the deep night came. As I attempted to fall asleep, the fire kept growing… It…it wont stop growing. It inches closer and closer to me. I get up and walk a few paces away from it and lie back down. The heat is intense, much less now that I’m at a distance and I fall asleep. Early in the morning I wake up and again the blaze is but a few inches from me! She’s gone but the blaze is still here, growing like a monster. This feeling is now beginning to hurt, the hair on my skin now singed from the close exposure.

Over the past few days this blaze has become a wild fire. I am convinced that I too, myself, am on fire. This blaze hurts me and I don’t understand how this could have happened, or what I need to do to put myself out. Every direction I look I see the bright light. I search for cooler spots in the blaze but the dynamic nature of fire moves them around too quickly.

So I stand here burning, confused…wondering where it all went wrong. Wondering what I should do next. Wondering in which direction is the best way out of the fire. I try yelling for help, but the intense heat has destroyed my vocal chords, the screams for aid existing only in my head.