Chasing Windmills

Delusions of Grandeur

"Love: the delusion that one woman differs from another."
H.L. Mencken

So, I am a hypocrite. I admit it. I wear my cynicism like a coat, armor to protect the inner idealist. As Louis would say, "at heart [I am] a rank sentmentalist."
I still hold my breath every day as I approach my mailbox hoping there is a note or card from "her". And every day I close that mailbox with disappointment. I sent the flowers in an attempt to brighten her day, to let her know someone was thinking of her. It was with much reservation that I sent the follow-up note.
I was content thinking I had done a good deed. But, that most contemptible of consciences, a friend, advised that unless she knew "who", it was wasted effort. To me it was not wasted effort because apparently she did like them and wanted to know "who". Hence, the note and the subsequent Christmas card I sent.
I could imagine her sitting there and receiving the flowers. I can imagine her smiling face. I can imagine her co-workers asking who sent them and I can imagine her blushing as she replies,"a secret admirer". I can imagine her racking her brain trying to figure out "who".
But the fact that it has been almost 2 months with no response renews my lack of faith in humanity. There was a time when a Southern lady graciously accepted gifts and sent cordial thank you notes. I guess I should have been born during that time. Imagine how it feels to be passed over, to know that someone can't take five minutes out of her life to say thank you. Even if that is all she says.
Maybe now my pond-hopping friend can understand my hesitation. The prior fear that I had. The illusion existed of how great this mystery man was. As long as she didn't know, he could be anyone and she would never be disappointed. But when the truth is revealed, her expectations are shattered.
The irony of my life is this, I damned if I do, and damned if I don't. The times I don't act I should, and vice versa. At that time I was afraid this scenario would happen so I did not act. This time and I did act, and the scenario unfolded my fear. I just hope that you may understand why I hesitated, why I continue to be gun-shy.
Does anyone else ever feel like they are just cosmically screwed ? My latest theory or rather an attempt to justify the situation: In a past life I was a total a**. A manipulative, self-indulging womanizer. My penance: to walk in this life as an observer to see true beauty, true love, to appreciate it but to never experience it. Too long for it, but to always have it just out of reach.
Maybe the folly of man is his inquisitive nature, the need to know "why".

posted by Michael @ 6:50 AM