Starlight, Starbright

September 18th, 2003

Well, as my friend said, the best way is the direct way." Bridget says.

She reaches over and kisses me passionately. I think to myself; "I have waited seven years for this... and I am only just realizing now how much I really love her."

I really do love her... and my doubts about her have just been washed away. Before today, I was never sure how she felt about me. I had been getting little, subtle hints from her that she might still have feelings for me... and I had also been getting broader, blunter hints... no "hints" is the wrong word... statements that she despises me... or at least that we work better as friends. But those are all gone now.

I fall backwards on the couch, dragging her with me, loving her, needing her, wanting her.

Eventually we break apart and I gaze deep into her eyes, unable to read what is behind them. I pray that it is love... but fear that is it also. But I do see that she is lost in thought, and I wonder if she is regretting her actions.

"Are you regretting that?" I ask.

I have to wonder about this... it has happened before that a woman will take my love, twist it into a pretzel and then throw it out the proverbial window.

"No, just thinking" she replies.

About what I want to ask. But I refrain, fearing the truth. If she does not love me, what will I do? What can I do? Who else is there for me besides her? No one.

I love her so much. more than anything, I want our relationship to be like that of my close friend Freya (her real name is Gertrude, but if you call her that, she will rip your throat out) and her last boyfriend. They had a completely open relationship in which phrases of love were a common thing. Why did they break-up? Who knows... life twists in mysterious ways sometimes. I'm too afraid to say "I love you" to Bridget, because I do not think that she wants that kind of "mushy," if you will, relationship.

And what do I think? I love her. I want her more than anything. I want to tell her exactly what is in my heart, that I love her and care for her so much... that I have completely fallen for her... I cannot sleep... I barely eat. Without her I am lost. My dreams revolve around her, and my thoughts are all about her. I want her and I need her, but if I were to say any of these things to her face, she would probably laugh at me and call me a wuss.

But, no time to think about that now. I smile and say

"Your mom will be home soon... I better go."

"Alright" she replies.

I want to be able to stay more than anything in the world. I love her and I wish we could be together all the time. I wish that she would tell me she loves me. I know she does, but I want what Freya has so badly... for someone to say "I don't have to wish anymore" to me. For someone who will say she loves me all the time, or at least show it all the time, not only when we are alone... and not only through subtle, vague hints.

I get on my bike and ride off into the dark night, wondering if she really loves me or if it's all just a dream.

September 20th, 2003

"Hi Bridget" I say as I see her walking into the backyard of her mothers church.

I'm helping to build a stage for Mass at her mothers church. Seeing her just makes me realize how much I love her and how much I've missed her in the 2 days we've been apart. The feeling she creates within me is something which only another person in love can know.

"Morning" she mutters in a tone which could be described as rude.

I wonder if it is something that I have done... had I offended her in some way or another? Or is it because she is here, helping to prepare for Mass when she is not a believer? I am only here because she has asked me to be here. Really, I am a person without religion, although Bridget insists on describing me as an atheist evolutionist, which I do not believe is true, as science is not a religion, is it?

The morning passes quickly, and we soon break for lunch. I see Bridget start walking out the door and I ask her where she is going. She tells me that she has to go pick up a cheque that her mother had forgotten at their apartment. Knowing how long a trip she must make, I offer her my bike for the ride.

"Just do not break it" I joke.

It is, after all, my Dads 400$ bike.

She thanks me and speeds off without a backwards glance.

I walk over to the mall with her mother. We wait outside for Bridget to reappear. Finally she does, grimacing in pain.

She has sheared her hamstring... again. Somehow I feel guilty about this... it is my bike after all. I try to hold back my concern for her, knowing she would just see it as pity which she does not want. She sees it as a sign of weakness I think.

Lunch, for me, is poutine. Not the best poutine that I've had, but far from the worst. Bridget eats a salad while looking thoughtful. I wish I could read her thoughts. It would be so much simpler... life that is. Not to have to worry about lies or deceit.. which life is full of. I do not know why... perhaps it is merely another mystery of life to which I will never find the answer.

We finish eating and Bridget lights up a cigarette while we wait for her mother to finish her liver and onions.

As we sit and stare at each other, I am almost overcome by a strong desire to kiss her and tell her everything about me. Why do I resist? We have known each other for nearly a decade... Freya and I have known each other for only ten months and I can tell her everything... my secrets, my dreams, my doubts and my hopes. She knows all about Bridget... so why can't Bridget know all about Bridget?

Her mother finishes and we walk outside where she calls for a taxi as I get on my bike for my ride back to Bridget's apartment.

Later that evening, we sit on the couch and watch a movie together. I put my arm around her and she slides her head onto my shoulder. I take her hand in mine and we lie together, absorbing the film. I love this moment so much... I never want to be anywhere else except here, with her, like this. I have never felt as loved or as wanted as I do at this moment.

The sound of the movie is all that disturbs the room. Neither her nor I speak. Words are needed... or are they? I want to tell her that I love her so much but my fear of her mocking my feelings keeps me from speaking.

I sneeze. Lousy allergies. I hate them so much. Plus I have a cold, which does not help any... but some minor discomfort is a small price to pay for a night with my angel. I fall asleep, holding her tightly in my arms.

September 25th, 2003

"Sorry Mike, I have pneumonia."

"Oh... that is my fault... I am terribly sorry."

"It's okay... well... goodnight, Mike."

"Goodnight... get well soon."

I hang up the phone. Well I guess I can wait awhile to talk to her... if I am going to talk with her. But the weeks without her are going to be hard.

September 27th, 2003

I have decided, from talking with Freya, that I am going to talk with Bridget. Freya has always been there for me, throughout the dark hours of my life and she has brought me out of my self-pity that I was trapped in for so many years. And I love her for it. If her boyfriend and Bridget did not exist... who knows what might have happened. But they do, and there is no use wishing for something which can never be. She understands me perfectly though and she has always helped me through these "crises" of mine.

What am I going to talk to Bridget about? About my love for her... and about sex.

I even know why I feel the way I do about sex, which is rare. Most people do not know themselves as well as I know myself. During my childhood, I was sexually active... if you could call it that. I have seen my share, more than my share even, of naked women... well girls really. And we did stuff, like all children do, explore and question what things are for... but with Bridget, I never gave her what she gave me. I've seen her naked about... 50 times at least and she has seen me naked... never. I'm not bragging about it. I took advantage of her and I regret it to this day. Indeed, it is one of the things that I regret the most in my life. After three years of this, I suspect that Bridget got frustrated with me... and so she left. For the years afterwards, I tried to find a way to tell her that I was sorry. Countless times, I have picked up the phone.. and countless times I have put it back down. I used to sit and stare at her house, hoping that she would see me. I prayed for her to call me. I wished upon a star for our reunion every night... but it never happened. Finally I grew resigned to the fact that we would never see each other again.

But all of this had a positive effect on me, in addition to the negative one. I came to realize the feeling of losing someone you love in the worst way possible at a young age and through this realization, I reached maturity much faster than most people do. I understand at my young age of sixteen what it means to love somebody and I believe I am capable of far stronger and deeper emotions than most people my age. Not that anyone sees them. I say most because there are other exceptions... Freya for example. But... I look around me and I see teenagers obsessed with getting laid and I have to laugh. There is so much more to love than sex... and if they cannot see that, it is their loss. But... there are times when I am tempted, through flirtatious women or through simple depression, to join them. I do not want to mistake lust for love... nor do I want to appear as if I think love is all about sex. But there are times when I think "What does it matter, waiting for the right woman" and I want to plunge deep into dating. But I have been strong so far and hopefully I will continue to be so. Sex is merely... an interesting and fun part of love which is not needed for love to exist. Sex is the spice of love, if you will, where the feeling behind it all is the meat.

I go online and play solitaire until Bridget appears. We chat for a little bit about inconsequential things, then I send her the following message.

"Bridget, there is something that I would like to talk to you about, alone, and, although I would be more comfortable doing this online, I think that I should do it in person."

She asks me what about and I have to say that she will find out later, because any explanation I can give her will tell her what I want to talk about... and I want to wait until I can explain fully, to be sure that there are no misunderstandings.

She agrees to remind me the next time we are alone together and I go off-line to start my homework, worrying about what she will say when she hears "I love you."

After bowling, I walk over to Bridget and say "Hello Bridget... mind if I come over tonight and we can have our little talk?"

"Sure" she says.

I'm frightened... she could easily ruin my whole life... but I have to go on with this.

"Excellent" I say, and turn to leave, while smiling at her.

I want to kiss her and hug her so much... but I'm afraid that public affection will make her feel... uncomfortable. She doesn't seem to want it, so I curb my desires. Always, I have given up what I want for another person... always I am ready to make that sacrifice.

I hit her doorbell later in the day, armed with my wits, my poetry and my speeches. As I enter her apartment, I smile at her, say hello, drop my coat on the chair near the door as I always do, then I sit on her couch and motion for her to sit beside me. My amulet bounces upon my chest as I sit.

My amulet is a black heart, made of a material that I forget the name of, rimmed in silver. It hangs upon a silver chain and I never take it off except to shower. Why do I always wear it? So that, no matter where I am or what I am doing, I will always have something to remember my angel and my love for her.

As she sits and looks at me expectantly, all the pretty words, poems and speeches fly from my head. I try to decide how to tell her and settle on the direct, blunt way.

I kiss her passionately, pushing her down onto her back. As she kisses back, I think about how lucky I am to have her... I break my lips from hers and whisper into her ear "I love you."

She pulls back and I think for a moment that she is angry with me... but then she looks into my eyes and I lower my guard for her, letting her see my love and compassion. She nods and pulls me back down. She holds me tightly and I snuggle against her shoulder... and then I hear her whisper to me the words I've wanted to hear from her for so long.

"I love you, too."

I gather her up in the strongest embrace I can muster as I am filled with joy and contentment.

We sit back up after a while and I lean against the armrest. She lies between my legs, her head upon my chest. I tell her how I do not want to force her into doing anything that she does not want to do... like having "carnal relations." She laughs at that... my use of the words "carnal relations." I smile. I've never been able to use the word "sex" when talking to women... I don't want to look like a pervert, but I also like to avoid using the more obscene words in the English language around them. Why? I don't know... some concept of honour I have, I suppose.

I fall silent and wait for her answer. I love her... but if she does not understand me, then I do not know if I will still want her. Can I live with someone who cannot understand the concept of love as I understand it? I try and think of alternatives. There is Juliana... who said that she would date me, if only there was a spark between us... maybe I could create a spark... or maybe she was lying and there really is a spark and she just does not want to come between me and Bridget. And I know that Freya will always be there for me, in her role as loving friend, advisor and confidante.

"I understand Mike. I'm not quite ready... but when I am ready, I'll tell you." she says.

My heart soars... she understands!

"Alright, that is all I ask for" I say, trying to hold back my emotions.

I hug her tightly as my brain begins to digest her words.

I am glad that she is making this decision, because I really do not want to. I am ready for it, but I do not want to pressure her, or make her feel pressured into doing something that she does not want to do.

If I were making this decision... well... we would be on the floor, because even I have hormones and the usual needs. And I love her. I really believe that she is my one... and I know that she is angel. She is beautiful, though I suspect that if I were to tell her this, she would be angry. Not beautiful, like most people would say. Bridget is not supermodel thin, nor do I want her to be. She is right where I want her to be. Her looks are almost tomboyish... but I love them. And her mind! Such a mind... she is smarter than I am at most things and I consider myself to be fairly smart. I can use any word in the English language and she will know what it means... and sometimes she corrects my usage of a word. I cannot accomplish that and I doubt that anyone else I know could either.

I am completely in love with her... and I want to make love to her. Sex is, in my mind, an intimate act, more intimate than anything else you can imagine. You have to open yourself completely to the other person, open your most private and sensitive of areas and you must risk the rejection that is always a possibility.

I see that night has fallen while we were talking and I ask her if she wants to step outside to go stargazing.

She accepts, of course. She loves the night almost as much as I do.

Why do I love the night? The romantic ness of it and the beauty of it for sure... but I cannot fully explain my love of the night. It reminds me so much of myself, dark with a few light spots.

But I know that I love stargazing, especially with my angel. To just hold each other and stare up into infinity.

Every time that I go outside at night, since Bridget and I first broke up, so many years ago, I have always said the same thing...

Starlight, star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight

Then, if I am alone, I say my wish, or I mouth it if there are people nearby. My wish has always been the same, night after night.

"I wish for Bridget to love me."

Tonight, there is nothing for me to wish for... for I have Bridget. I smile while thinking about her and how lucky I am to finally have her.

Bridget looks at me in the darkness.

"Aren't you going to make a wish, Mike?"

Ah, she noticed then, on the previous occasions we've gone stargazing, that I always make a wish.

"No" I reply.

"Why not?"

I think about it for a second, then decide, what the hell, she deserves to know.

I turn to look at her and I smile... then I reach over and embrace her.

"My wish already came true."

I see, at first, confusion in her eyes, then she realizes what I am saying. She looks shocked.

I hold her tightly, wishing that this moment would never end.

But midnight comes quickly, and we have to go back inside. I think that it is stupid... what kind of rapist is going to go after the two of us on her front porch? But I do not argue with her mother.

We are both tired, so I put on Queen of the Damned. We sit cuddling on the couch. I am probably one the few men who likes to cuddle... scratch "likes" insert "loves." She falls asleep halfway through the movie and I gaze at her face. She's pretty in her own way... not a girly-girl. But I love her looks, her body and her mind. We could argue philosophy, theology or science and actually have a two way argument. I love her for all these things... her looks, her brain... but also because the spar is there. I love being with her. I love the feelings she creates within me. I even love it when she bites me. I fall asleep in mid-thought.