6:17AM and here came J, ready for the morning walk. I raised my eyebrow: “But it’s not 6:30 yet!”, ceremoniously protesting about his offensive violation. For a month thus far, he has become my “tag-along” walk partner. Initially, that “tag-along” itself was a violation for this rigid scrooge, but after weeks of practice, I have finally come to accept the intrusion. Though not quite in the category of “prenuptial agreement”, two ground rules were laid open before my reluctant conceding: no talking and no slowing me down. Thus far, J has been a law abiding citizen in my sacred, private domain. Today was his first ever offense – changing the hour. He replied quickly enough: people were annoying him already. It takes one scrooge to know another, and his pain. No need for further explanation, I packed up my gear and was all ready to make an exception.
It was a walking heaven when we stepped out of the building. After 3 days of intense heat and humidity, we were more than grateful to walk in a picture of perfection with a pale blue sky and golden hue of morning sun. The temperature was just about 70. Our temperamental friend, the breeze, was already in the weekend mood, dancing and frolicking everywhere. Her infectious joy was so potent that it unlocked this guarded churl instantly. My iPod forgotten in my left hand, I walked on with my +1, incredulously merry and chatty. From the cause of our 6:30 violation, the annoying people, we started talking about work, what he does and who he works with. 3 years of working on the same floor under the same roof and weeks of walking together, we were actually finding out what each other does the first time ever. From work to life, our small talks carried on all the way from Huntington to Washington, 40 blocks altogether. Once or twice I felt the iPod in my hand. I hesitated but a little and eventually put it back into my pocket.
I blame it on the fair day, all that glorious sun and breeze that betrayed the better sense of me. I could feel the guard retreating as our steps moving forward. Was it the beguiling wind or the ease of my friend that made that forbidden mix, walk and talk, not so unpardonable? Our conversation was but some idle talks such as what gardenias looked like and how to grow them. Not exactly a home-run hit, but neither was it a total defeat. My lone wolf coworker seemed to be at ease with this awkward social reject. I had wondered when J popped in my cube once in a while how the others might have thought -- a strange pair like us, so seemingly unthinkable but somehow it worked. The two recluses, quiet yet explosive, find each other’s presence almost comfortable – with or without words.
In comparison, all other “flings” at work are grinding to a halt, regardless of how promising they might have started. A few chit-chats at the kitchen or IM were all it took when the fun disappeared as if nothing ever happened. When it comes to me and relationship, the saying “time will tell” should be replaced with “time will kill”. For the past 3 years at work, I have yet not proven to succeed in any relationship while the rest of my coworkers stay with their “clicks” effortlessly. My 30-minute walk with J seems to be working thus far apparently for 2 safeguards: short and silent. Could today’s deviation ruin it all again just like the rest of them?
Yes, time will tell if I did kill again. As much as I find my new budded “relationship” non-intruding, I’d confess shamefully that its death wouldn’t injure me that much. If there’d be any casualty, it would be more for the sake of pride. Then again, I have had plenty of experiences of wounded pride. I am, after all, proven to be more resilient than any of my failed relationship. I’d continue to practice my golden rule, for both life and plants, live and let die. No more and no less.
