Saturday Morning

Last night, at about 4 in the morning, I made a comment, and I can't remember what the context was, but this morning, sitting in my brand new papasan inside my bedroom, I remember the comment. "It's not every day that I get to be with two attractive young ladies."

Taking out of context, I can only imagine what one thinks of me. For those who know me, I wonder if they feel sorry for me, because in some ways, it's pitiful. The context was something funny, because I remember my two guests laughing about it. I have two very beautiful and young tango dancers hanging out in my living room. There seems to be some ideas in the heads of men that I am always with beautiful girls. That's the impression I get from the short comments I hear from men at milongas every now and then.

It's Saturday morning. Really, it's past 1PM. I've managed to sleep past 11AM, the dreaded deadline for my body to wake up. I cheated by taking sleeping aids at 9:30AM when my body wanted to get up after going to bed around 4:30. My throat hurts and I fell asleep twice at the milonga last night. This is because I have been sleeping for less than 4 hours each night for the past week.

It's Saturday morning, and I have that feeling again. It's extremely annoying. It's like a cough, which has dogged me the whole past few days. It is not something life-threatening, but I can't resist it and it really annoys me. That feeling, that famous morning feeling of extreme loneliness and hopelessness. I no longer blame it on anyone, not even myself. I just get annoyed that the visitor comes again and again every morning when I get out of bed. Part of remembering the comment is this morning desire for self-pity. If I am always surrounded by beautiful women, why not a single one of them wants to be with me? That's the thought for the morning. My sister, the lawyer one, once asked me if I really want to be with someone. The answer is obvious, but stepping back, I watch my life and I can see how some people can't imagine the I actually want to be with someone, one person. And the reality is that sometimes I struggle to "enjoy the moment", enjoy the experience of being with different people. These two ladies are like most people I "experience"; they leave something beautiful in my path of life but I will probably never interact with them much again in the future, and unlikely in the same way. A few people, like my close friends, are my permanent companions, not just a trading post of experience on the desolate road of my life. So I try to always enjoy the moment, be grateful I meet people.

But at some point, damn it, I want that different experience, the experience of being with a woman for a longer journey. It is one of my deepest realizations from the last drama in my life: even though she and I might not be the most compatible people, I believed we could learn so much from each other through a partnership as well as struggles with each other. I know that romance for most people starts out with a big bang and excitement and the shaking of the heart, but a long-term romance for me is different from other relationships in this way: this very different way of experiencing life than with friendships or dating or family. There is a lot I haven't learned about myself because I haven't been in a long term relationship in a while.

My neighborhood is quiet, even on a Saturday afternoon and with my windows open. Two friends from New Haven are coming to visit me, today or tomorrow, making this place even busier. I am grateful whenever I slow down and notice. Last night that girl from my last drama sent me text messages comforting me because she knew I was having these morning anxieties again. I am grateful for that too, without having to remember that she and I aren't talking to each other again. And I am even grateful that this young girl who is leaving Monday is still smiling at me despite knowing that I wasn't happy with her rejection, so that in the end, we have avoided drama and will enjoy each other's company for the remainder of our "experience" together. We had a lot of fun last night after her friend from Massachusetts joined her in my "harem", as some people have joked about my company of women. I am grateful for the lack of drama. I am grateful to know another tango dancer. I am grateful I get to hear their stories, their thoughts, and to be made to laugh with their youthful attitude about life. They are as far from me as one can imagine in terms of how to live their lives. They both want to become poor tango teachers, but like any artist, they will enjoy life in a very different, and perhaps more fulfilling way, than my finance peers. Their life isn't set. There is no bag full of structured goals. The girl told me that she wanted to be a tango teacher because that's the feeling she has, a strong feeling, which, she said, is more important than any rational planning.

Sometimes I just want to sell my house and everything I am responsible for to be free like that. Free to following my feelings without many of the shackles of society. Perhaps that's why I am tempted to go busking in public and pretend that the few dollars I will earn will mean I am free. My heart isn't always here. Sometimes I read about China and I want to do something there. When I saw the Tibetan prayer wand on my radiator I want to be there. I don't regret starting my life in New York, working in finance, which is almost as exotic to me as traveling in Tibet. But I should remember sometimes to take that lesson from this cute girl and follow my feelings.

The morning visitor has come and left, as usual. I am ready to start another crazy day with these young ladies.