Shall we meet?

10 months of “communications” later, AH and I finally met.

As IT team, we provide services for customers at locations that sometimes require transportation means to get to if needed. However, technology has made distances irrelevant since most support can be achieved via remote control through PC and phone. Thus it is more than likely that we never come face to face with customers such as those. AH started as one of them. It was not until by chance we discovered our common association with Pittsburgh that our relationship slowly moved from work to less professional territory. For months, though, this casual communication on sports or weather was limited to email solely as if we were bond by some mutual, unspoken rule. With IM and phone at our finger tips, we rigidly persisted on this arrangement until a month ago when I worked with his group on some problematic ticket that required instant and frequent responses, thus IM finally cut in. Even so, we continued to take deliberate caution to avoid the last barriers, phone or face-on confrontation.

Among many of my self-contradicting personality traits, social ineptness is one of them. I have not been known for being verbally quick or articulate. On top of such deficiency there is also a balance issue that I could never master: I either do too much or too little. Thus I avoid direct interaction if ever choices are available. Emails allow room for organizing thoughts at the same time satisfy the writer’s need or addiction inside of me. IM will be the next preference even though it provides some instant gratification in that you don’t have to wait long for feedback. Either way, there is nothing that exposes the true quality of thoughts better than writing, which serves the purpose of my secret quest for distinguished mind. My obsession, though, is hardly reciprocated in this modern culture of fast food products. AH’s willingness or perseverance in keeping our email/IM makes up his average quality of expression. Over time, this mediocre was overcome by other qualities such as his honesty and straightforwardness.

It started on Monday’s routine when he IM’ed and said he had brought some home grown tomatoes for share, followed by a logical question: how did he get them delivered? After a few iterations, it was then concluded for me to stop by on the way home to their parking lot outside of the building. It seemed logical; most importantly, he sounded as-a-matter-of-fact. At 3:50pm, I headed out to keep our appointment. It was then when I realized I was about to come face to face with not AH but my own social handicap. Like a drowning victim, I was overcome with paralyzing fear as the memory of past failure came flooding to swallow me. I remembered with acute pain that all relationships that started out on paper never ended well if not collapsed completely.

The reality is: this complex, confusing and contradicting package comes in the form of an average wrapper. My physical endowment is not nearly as interesting as my thoughts. Meanwhile, the size of my vanity is none the less smaller than that of those with superior beauty. History has proved that it would be better off if it started with the lesser end, as in my outside, then moving on to the better end, my inside, with the hope that time allows grace to grow such that both ends might compromise and even compensate. Clearly, this was not the case. As my car approached his building, I began to panic but there was no time for retreat. I saw him already, standing in the parking lot, spotting me and started walking toward my car. I parked and walked out to face my daemon, looking all too smiling and brave. How are you? We finally meet… the usual pleasantry any two people who met the first time. I am pretty sure to have said something stupid too. I remember averting my eyes, feeling and looking awkward to receive that friendly hug and finally scrambling back into my car and speeding off. The whole ordeal lasted less than 3 minutes but it may well be hell of a life time.

Why do we care what others may or may not approve of us in the skin-deep and deceiving part of human, our physical appearance? Experience has proved to me time after time that looks last as brief as minutes when our physical eyes see without seeing and the other faculty, brain, takes over to evaluate and scrutinize. How many times has this invisible yet far more superior organ of ours confirmed the irony that beauty of one’s outside rarely matches that of inside and vice versa? If so, why can’t I trust my fellow human beings to do the fair thing when I know such revelation cannot possibly be my own unique gift? Mayhap my true insecurity lies not in that’s outside but that is inside???

While I started on the verge of self-destructive doubt and fright, I recalled the one surety who has known me and remained his singular devotion and adoration for 25 years. With him, there would never be room for fear may it be glorious performance or regretful disappointment. I will, hopefully, always be the apple of his eye on a Sunday morning when I have my Converse on with my girly skirt or at any party when words fly before my better judgment. Even with all failing to be impressed, including my own self, I would but to look into his eyes and find myself as beautiful as I was on the day when they first met mine.