I Wonder

What is it Like to be Loved?

Photo by Mayur Gala on Unsplash

Wonder. What an amazing word. It gets the mind to thinking about things. It makes the imagination active. It can make you scared or it can make you brave. It can do many things to one's mind. Most of all, it is mysterious because you never know its answer. 

I have often wondered what it is like to be loved-really loved-by someone of the opposite sex. What is it like to have a lady look me in the eyes and say, "Maurice, I love you?" I don't know what it is like and, at this stage of my life, I don't know how I'd react. I am not talking about the love between a parent and child or a friend to a friend. I am talking about a romantic love. I don't know what it is like at all.

I have been in numerous relationships that always started off with me making the first move. In trying not to be superficial, I would always avoid using the word "love" unless the direct object was anything but her. "Yes, I love baseball," or "I love that show." 

I knew that if she was the direct object of my sentence, it would be date over. However, I never felt love back. I never knew what it was like to be loved. This is why many of my relationships ended prematurely. "Does she love me or am I just a pet, someone to keep around like a puppy?" I had no answers.

I just don't know. I am empty. I have loved ladies from afar. I had a real love in high school, but she never knew it because I was too scared to tell her even though we also went to college together as well. Unfortunately, she died before I could have mustered up the courage to tell her. Perhaps her being a very beautiful teenaged Italian lady and my being a teenaged black guy had something to do with it as well. 

But other white ladies haven't moved me as well. Only she did. Other times, I only felt a physical attraction for other women, but that's it. I could never find someone who felt the same about me as I did about them.

I often go to meeting places like church, stores, malls and other places where people gather to do their thing as well. I have seen thousands of ladies, but there was never a connection of any sort. 

It is like looking at a huge jar of pennies in the hopes of finding a 1944 steel penny, examining maybe a thousand pennies and not finding a 1944 penny of any sort. Then, you go back home defeated. It is an awful feeling to deal with all the time.

I wonder about it every single day. I sometimes go home and say to myself, "I remember that nice lady at so and so. I think that I will ask her out next week." Then, when I see her again, she shows up with her husband. Great luck. Great freakin' timing. Strike one.

On another occasion, I introduced myself to a nice lady. She was friendly and helpful. I introduced myself to her and she did the same. Instead of being too quick on the draw and kissing her on the cheek, I put out my hand to shake it. I put out my left hand by accident.

"Ouch," I said. She apologized and said that she forgot that she had on her engagement ring. Thanks for the warning. Strike two.

I am not too quick to get strike three. As in baseball, there are times when you are at bat, you have to wait and look for your pitch, the ball that the pitcher will throw so that, if it looks right and is in your swing zone, you will swing and hopefully hit it out of the park. Right now, I have the luck of a kamikaze pilot hoping for a safe return trip home.

Yes, I wonder what it is like to have someone in my life who wants me for me, not for my money which I don't have. I don't want her to like me for anything except my heart. I cannot find her. My friends always tell me to stop looking. Yeah. Most of them married early. Others tried dating services. Others were set up on blind dates. Me? I am supposed to just sit there and love will take its mighty sledgehammer and hit me upside the head one day. Sure. Right. Ball one.

Well, I am a bachelor, but I have a secret. It is not everything that people make it out to be. In other words, I am ready to give up bachelorhood. I want a wife, a very pretty lady who adores me like I will adore her. I want to take her places and show her off. I know that she is not an object, but I want people to see the person who brings me joy. I want to do everything for her. Most of all, I want her to be happy. I want her to be my World Series game-winning grand slam.

As I write this, the room is dark with the exception of my laptop illumination. I have a radio on and the only thing in my room that has a colorful personality and nice legs is my TV set. It would be nice to have a wife who I could cuddle with and say nice, intimate things to her as well. It would be great to just kiss her and/or share things about our day. But I also wonder if such a thing could (or would) ever happen for me. 

As I said before, wondering makes all sorts of thoughts pop into your mind. With my luck, the one who will move me will be one of the mourners at my funeral. Then what? Ball two.

I want to do something that would really make a lady feel special. Perhaps I could present a lady with a single flower — a rose — in order to show her that she already has my affections. I like to hold doors open for a lady, flash a smile or deliver a very nice compliment. I'd do anything within reason for her. I am not flashy. I do not pretend to be something or someone I'm not. I don't name drop. 

Even if I knew someone no matter how marginal that personality is, it does not belong in that conversation. It is just a simple verbal resume that I want to present. "Hi. I'm Maurice. I am a retired teacher. This is me. What you see is who I am." There'd be no need to overdo it. If she likes me, she will accept me. If she doesn't like me, oh well. Ball three.

In baseball, we have something called a full count. That means that the next pitch will decide what will happen next to the batter. There are one of three outcomes: 

  1. The batter could get Ball four and then walk to first base. This ensures that he had not let his team down and has the possibility of scoring once the round trip back to home plate is completed.
  2. He could swing and get a hit, possibly a home run, and, if nobody caught it, he could also land on a base. So far, both expectations are good because there is also a chance to get closer to a victory of some sort. 
  3. However, there is always the 3rd outcome. It is the classic swing and a miss. We call this Strike 3. I am very familiar with Strike 3. I've made many of them often ending the game. For once in my life, I'd like to get that grand slam and be carried off the field on the shoulders by my teammates as the MVP of the game. Up to now, it has never happened.

Until Cupid stops by and enlists me onto his team, I will be waiting. I will continue to play my Sinatra and Nat King Cole music and just dream of what my life could have been like. I will always fantasize about the one I dream about often. I will dream about the one who could come close and really put that zing back into my step. I want to meet the one who has a gleam in her eyes like I have for her. That is my free time. If you are that lady, I'm looking for you.

Until then, I wonder...

Photo by Aricka Lewis on Unsplash

Maurice Bernier
Maurice Bernier

I am a diehard New Yorker! I was born, raised and love my NYC. My blood bleeds orange & blue for my New York Mets. I hope that you like my work. I am cranking them out as fast as I can. Please enjoy & share with your friends.

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I Wonder