Wrong Man, Wrong Woman, Wrong Time

I had a nightmare the other night. It was many years ago, and I was younger. I was at a dance. In those days, I commonly fell for women who were poorly suited for me. And I tended to meet those for whom I was poorly suited. The results were some pretty sensual, but explosive relationships, thankfully far in my past.

But last night I had this very disturbing dream, and had to write about it. The past is never quite done with us.

I saw her. She was about ten feet away, had long, softly flowing dark blonde hair, diamond earrings, and perfect makeup. She was about five feet five inches tall and sleek, as always. Her face was animated, and she knew how to use her body to express herself.

As she turned towards me, I felt a shock of recognition, attraction, and fear.
No, I had never seen her before that night, but I had seen her many times over the years.

I steered away as fast as I possibly could. I caught a questioning glance cast my way from her. It seemed to say, “Have we met before?” I did not want to say the obvious, “yes many times, and the results have always been tragic.” I moved away further.

If some things are fated, we are fated to meet – slowly move together – dance a dance of careful seduction – melt into one another – clash, and then explosively separate, leaving shards of broken dreams behind.

That’s why I fled. I’ve paid the price several times; you have too. You move on to other lovers, as I do. – We stare at each other over the years- not ever quite over, but never together again.

Wrong man, wrong woman, wrong time