June 18, 2008
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The Mystery Girl Saga
“It is told in the Lay of Leithian that Beren came stumbling into Doriath grey and bowed as with many years of woe, so great had been the torment of the road. But wandering in the summer in the woods of Neldoreth he came upon Lúthien, daughter of Thingol and Melian, at a time of evening under moonrise, as she danced upon the unfading grass in the glades beside Esgalduin. Then all memory of his pain departed from him, and he fell into an enchantment; for Lúthien was the most beautiful of all the Children of Iluvatar. Blue was her raiment as the unclouded heaven, but her eyes were grey as the starlit evening; her mantle was sewn with golden flowers, but her hair was dark as the shadows of twilight. As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light.”
The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien
It all began in late August of 2004. I was moving into Dancer Hall at the University of Northern Iowa. My girlfriend of the previous entry was with me, as were her parents, to help me move into my dorm room.
Upon entering the dormitory, I went to the sign-in desk and then to the RA handling the upper floors of the building. This was the first meeting of Mystery Girl and myself, and at the time she was just another person (just for fun, I will be referring to Mystery Girl as thus for the rest of the saga). You see, my heart was already set upon my girlfriend, so other women really didn’t draw my attention. Truly! I was blessed at least in that regard. That would soon change, however.
In mid-September my heart was already beginning to suspect, though I was not concious of it at the time, that my relationship was starting to die. I thought things between us were fine; I had no idea how close to ending things my girlfriend was. So I went along, doing the school thing, sending emails, making phone calls and writing poems for my girlfriend at least once a week.
I began also to become friends with Mystery Girl, who was the RA two floors down. She was friends with my RA and therefore was often walking by my door. The thing that struck me first about her was her sweet demeanor and ever-present smile. There was a glow of peace about her, and I could tell very quickly that she would make a good friend. So we became acquainted, and after first asking my girlfriend’s permission (yes, I was a good boyfriend!) I asked Mystery Girl if I could write her a poem, for she was quite inspiring for me. She was flattered; such a thing had never been offered her before. So I composed what I like to refer to as a masterpiece. Then again, my circle of critics at the time was very small, namely Mystery Girl and myself.
“Classical Ode to the Lady of 10th Floor”
Sing, oh sing Helios and
Warm thy father’s lands
And let all the world in
Thy light rejoice, painted
By thy sister Aphrodite’s
Hand.
Lo, what precious drop hath
Fallen from her brush?
Peer closer still and gaze
Upon true resplendence,
Dancing o’er the green grass
And singing with a voice
Envied by man and muse.
Closer, closer peer thee and
Thy eternal eye shall see a
Face not beheld since Helen of Troy
Graced the golden walls of that fated city.
Abashed shall thee be when in
Her smile thou dost see
Thy own face.
Oh Helios, fear not for thy
Own vanity; forever shall thy
Brilliance fill the skies.
And when thy fiery chariot o’er
Horizon doth depart,
‘tis then thy throne usurpéd be by
The beauty of her eyes.
She was thrilled and immediately wondered if I had more poetry she could read. I did, so I began to provide old poems I had written. I didn’t write many more for her, but on the rare occasion that I did I first wrote one for my girlfriend for fear of investing my heart incorrectly (not that it was currently invested properly).
One embarassing moment: Homecoming Week at UNI was approaching and signs everywhere were advertising something called “Campanilling.” All I knew is that it was at midnight and sounded fun, so I invited Mystery Girl to come. She was busy with RA things that night and, after blushing, politely declined.
I found out later that Campanilling is a Homecoming tradition where sweethearts gather under the clocktower and kiss at midnight. Good thing she declined; my girlfriend would have eaten my heart (slowly).
Anyways, as said previously my girlfriend eventually broke up with me, but not until wondering at least once if there was something going on between Mystery Girl and myself. There wasn’t, that I was aware of, but the seeds of love between us were planted very deep, so deep that I did not know that they were there, waiting, until the cold winter of lust and secrets had passed in mid-November when my girlfriend broke up with me…
“Tuesday, November 23, 2004
…in due time there may be another lady whom I will pursue in hopes of finding romance yet again. I don’t dare rush things for fear of killing any delicate, budding feelings she may already have for me. Patience is necessary. For now I’ll view this promised land from afar, waiting for the right time to dare wander another step. Wish this pilgrim luck.”
This is the end of the Xanga entry of the same date, mere days after the breakup. Already I could sense those seeds of love quickening in the slowly thawing soils of my heart, and soon enough spring would complete the thaw. Love would germinate, sprout and begin stretching toward the sun…
“Monday, November 29, 2004
Problem: Falling in love with new girl.
Desired Solution: Dating said new girl.
Factors to Consider: I haven’t told her how I feel. . . that’s the biggest one.
The “X” Factor: According to a source close to said girl, she is “sort of seeing someone.” Apparently it isn’t official, but it is in the very beginnings of possibly being a relationship.
Dilemma: Do I tell said girl how I feel, or would that be inappropriate to possibly disrupt a possible relationship that could possibly happen?
Result of Debate Over This Dilemma: *pulls hair out of head and bangs said head on wall, screaming profane nonsense and lamenting his ill luck*
Drat.
***
So I speak with another friend of this mystery girl, and apparently this guy that wanted to date her screwed up. TWICE. He has not pursued her at all, so she gave up on him. This friend I spoke to tells me to go for it; I have a good chance at winning her over. And even if she doesn’t want to date right now, there is still promise in the future! And I will wait as long as it takes. This woman is amazing.
All I can hear is Handel’s “Hallelujah” Chorus in my head. Woo-hoo!
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Ah, love.
Spent some time with her. Lovely time. Want to spend more. Hard to concentrate on anything right now. Must type paper. Can’t get her outta my head. Can’t find a reason to do so. Guess I’ll shrug my shoulders and keep on going.
***
Man what a bipolar day. Started out in the dumps and already I’m in the suburbs!
Though I am kind of disappointed she didn’t feel the same way, I’m really glad that she was honest. And who knows what time will bring. I am very patient, especially with things worth waiting for and this young lady, my friends, is worth the wait.
What a burden to be rid of! No more secrets.”
My love for her began to blossom, and summer longed to approach but I held it back with all my patience for fear of rushing Mystery Girl, of growing too quickly only to have the stem of it all snap under the weight of haste. By the end of November, as referred to above, I confessed to her my growing feelings. I remember saying distinctly that being able to say to her, “I love you,” would be my life’s highest honor. Oh I was hopeless!! And she was stunned by this revelation, this opening of my heart, and confessed in turn that she only considered me a friend. But looking back upon the memory of that night I remember seeing the distant stars of delight and could almost hear the pounding of her heart as I poured my own out to her, as though the words carried on my breath bore with them bread and water for a love-starved prisoner. So I had hope and love for her, and that was enough for a while.
“Saturday, December 04, 2004
So I’ve hit that part of being single again where all you want is someone to hold… feeling pretty lonely right now. All I want is a cheek to put my hand on and a pair of eyes to stare into and say, “You are so beautiful.”
Seems like a simple wish, doesn’t it.
Sunday, December 05, 2004
So…. I’m sitting in my room all by myself all day. Rather bored, rather alone. Just a few minutes ago I hear a sweet voice echoing down the hall and into my room. I knew right away who it was. I stick my head out and here comes Mystery Girl, skipping towards me smiling and singing. So she takes my hand and we dance in the hallway and chat for a moment before she has to be on her way.
Is the fact I am retaining her anonymity frustrating anyone yet? Sorry if it is, but I’d rather not tell too many people her name before anything even happens romantically between us. I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch but hey, what’s wrong with estimating?”
I remember sometime in December of 2004 a conversation I had with Mystery Girl. I had written her a letter, for there was a short break in communication and I was afraid that I had frightened her off. We talked, and she admitted that she was confused about what I wanted from her. I felt terrible; I was trying desparately only to be her friend though she knew my love for her ran far deeper. So I thought for a moment and said, “I only ever want your honesty, as you always have mine.” And she nodded her beautiful head and agreed that she would always be honest with me. And she always was.
“Wednesday, December 08, 2004“
“The Seed”
I huddle within myself
A seed shivering in the cold, hard soil
Awaiting the day when the snow’s retreat
And the sun beckons me to grow.
It has been a long winter
Full of hope, full of waiting
Waiting to see what light looks like
Hoping to catch a glimpse of its rumored beauty.
How I ache within my shell,
Wishing I could feel more than
Cold upon my face
Wishing I could be held by more than
My own hands
Wishing I could taste more than
The salt of my tears
Hear more than
My cry
Smell more than
My decay
See more than
My own face in the mirror.
Love, take this quivering seed.
Plant it within your evergreen lands,
The eternal spring.
Watch me blossom
In your benevolent hands.
“Friday, December 10, 2004
So she wanted to watch a movie with me tonight at around 8:30. Arrived prompt and punctual and knocked. And knocked. At 8:45 I tested her door and found it unlocked. Cautiously and with much fear I opened the door and poked my head inside. “Hello?” I said softly into the dimly lit room. There was no answer save for the peaceful silence that permeates the atmosphere of a place blessed with beauty at rest. There, upon her couch, she lay, completely at peace and fast asleep with the barest trace of a smile upon her lips. I quietly closed the door and went to visit a friend, my eyes moist and heart aching. Oh, what exquisite pain.
-Original Work-
Hush, for now beauty rests
Her body rising and falling
Waxing and waning
With the tide of
Each content sigh
Whispering past
Barely parted lips
An almost imperceptible
Smile shining dimly
Upon her countenance.
What a peaceful creature lies
Before my sight!
I will depart
Quietly for fear of
Waking her.
For to do so
Would be as
Breaking the very night.
Rest and dream sweetly,
For I wish
To see the sun
Rise twice in my sky.”
Everything was going very well. My heart was swelling moment-by-moment with the love it bore for Mystery Girl, and every time I saw her or heard her sweet music echoing in the hall, I cherished it like gold. The entry above relates a particularly sweet moment, such a constrast to the following day…
“Saturday, December 11, 2004
Today was a rough day. That’s all I can say. Rough.
You ever felt this ” . ” small?“
…for it was this day that I formally met God.
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Comments (6)
“‘Tinuviel, Tinuviel,’ he called her by her Elvish name…”
So I’ve hit that part of being single again where all you want is someone to hold… feeling pretty lonely right now. All I want is a cheek to put my hand on and a pair of eyes to stare into and say, “You are so beautiful.”
Seems like a simple wish, doesn’t it.
This so sounds like me a little at the moment. I’ve gotten two phone calls in less than a week from a friend at Wartburg, and each has been great, but it reminds me of how I’m not really playing the field or doing anything exciting with my life at the moment. I like taling to her, but it just drags up the past. I know she has a boyfriend at the moment and I’m happy for her, but it really does suck to know that when she called on Friday and I admitted I didn’t have any exciting plans, it seemed to put her aback.
I hope like you I can get out of this with a more positive outlook, but being single is really starting to suck.
In lighter news, I got a free summer pass to the miniature golf course in town, which gives me something to do this summer. I might start spending more time down there just to get some exercise. and have some fun.
Hope you have a great week!
It’s strange, coming into the days of this story that I’m beginning to remember first-hand. Well, not quite there yet; you and the Cheese and I started hanging out a couple of months after this, but close. So much was beginnig to happen in our lives that neither of us knew about yet. Crazy!
The day you met God was rough. – I’m just thinking about that.
RYC– Yeah, I know. What makes one part of this particular decision harder is that I love Algona and I love working here, but a lot comes down to that root of all evil: Money. With the increasing costs of food and gas, and my loans set to increase in October, I’m looking at a situation that could inevitably be too tight for me if I were to remain here without a second job or cutting some costs from my budget, primarily expanded cable. The problem is that there are days where I’m wiped just completing my first job, let alone going to work another part-time one, and there are a lot of shows I watch on cable. If I cut it out of my budget, however, I’d have a little more discretionary income to spend and could remain in Algona longer. The downside is it takes out a good chunk of my entertainment costs. I can wait a little longer on guidance on this plan, though. After all, I have closer until October for some stones along this path to reveal themselves to me. By then, a path might be ready for me to take.
Upon further reflection, I’m beginning to think the second part of my anxiety has to deal with watching Andrea get married and that I’m trying to force something that really can’t be forced because I feel that’s what is expected of me from others. I don’t know how many times that question about finding a girlfriend or significant other to share my time with comes up from someone, even if it is just an innocent quarry. I know without a shadow of a doubt it will be asked by my dad’s side of the family most over the next few weeks. It still hurts to be asked that question, however.
Weddings are like kryptonite to singles for a reason. It makes you focus on a happy couple and realize that you are missing that same connection in your own life, even if you do love yourself, God and others.
I’m happy for my sister and those in my family who have found a connection to another person, but being single and watching other people find relationships is still a sting that doesn’t go away.
And yes, I know I’m not alone, because God is always with me, but it doesn’t get rid of that feeling of loneliness every now and then when you walk into a dark apartment. Lately that feeling has been increasing in my own life.
I also agree with your views on love. Love can’t exist if you don’t love yourself, others or God. I know what you mean about the difference between love and a relationship, too. Love is less about needing someone there with you at all times, but about devotion to that person even when they’re not with you. A relationship is that connection with another human being. Maybe it leads to love. Maybe it doesn’t. All I know is I really long for the connection of a relationship. Is that a selfish request?
For 24 years I’ve been single (granted, only eight or nine of them have I been actively pursuing a relationship). That doesn’t mean that I’ve not had crushes that were heart-wrenching to deal with or thrown myself headlong into asking a few girls if she returns said feelings only to be rejected. After so many rejections, you do start wondering if there is something wrong with you.
I know I have many great characteristics, though and I love where my journey has taken me. I know God loves me, and I love several people, including my close friends and family, as well as several of my co-workers.
It doesn’t help, however, that my self-esteem has only been built back up in the past few years after my parents divorce and going to the wedding means confronting the man who belittled me for so long while growing up.
That’s the third part of all this stress and anxiety. I wasn’t kind in that letter, but it felt good for the first time in a long time to finally find get closure on some of the issues of the past by having my say. But he still terrifies me and not having heard from him for over a year since sending that letter really has me scared about what will be said.
With all of these things coming to a head at Andrea’s wedding. I’m having a hell of a time dealing with that. I mean, if it was just one specific problem, it would be so much easier. But it’s several problems bundled altogether and some are hard to tackle on their own. But I thank both you and maje for at least listening and giving me words of encouragement. Trust me. It is helping. I’m hoping to get through this stronger, just like every other challenge that has been thrown my way.
A kindred soul. I dig. There’s an emotional machinery in perhaps every heart. An ideaized image. A holy icon. “Infatuation” is a trivialization. It moves men. It makes a Dulcinea of every Aldonza. It takes a Beatrice and elevates her to almost a divinity. It takes a Galatea and makes her living. Sometimes, like Solomon (or myself) it is expressed in words but fails to gel in real life. Or like Petrarch and Laura, it’s better to remain strictly unrealized. It can be tragic, like Siegfried and Brunhilde. Or ennobling, like Parsifal and Kundry.
Not every woman can trigger the response. C.S. Lewis would call it the terrestrial Venus. He doens’t acknowledge a celestial Venus, and the infernal Venus is something we don’t want to rouse.
But I wax verbose. I cheapen a post that stands on its own like tall young tree.