Restoration Chapter

I've seen so many airplanes this week, it's kind of ridiculous.
Yesterday alone I can't even remember how many I saw. 
I saw so many that I actually lost count. 
That's a lot of frequent flyer miles. 
That's also a lot of little nudges from the Big G. 
Planes are sort of this thing between Him and I.
It's kind of a long story, but basically, it's like my own personal little rainbow. 
And whenever there's a plethora over head then I know He's moving, something fierce.

Mr. Dreamy came in again today.  I was on bar, donning my extra sparkles in honor of the holy day that is Sparkle Friday and he walked in through the door that's closest to the bar.  He got this big grin on his face when he saw me.  Good morning, Resa, he said.  And I'm quite certain my grin was so large it momentarily extended beyond the parameters of my cheekbones.  He remembered my name! I thought.  Eeeeee!! 

Do you have any idea what it feels like when you're feeling one thing internally but you have to make your face showcase something entirely different, almost conflicting?  Cool, aloof, detached.  No guy wants little Miss Eager Pants.  They want the elusive, independent, indifferent chicks that are hard to catch.  It's not a game, it's reality.  It is not sexy when a guy is too available or too doting or too infatuated.  We all crave balance.  Well, I should say most of us do.

The thing that was so different with this new stranger was that I had no desire to make something happen.  Oh, my instinct was always to be way too forward and there have already been moments where I've thought something and chosen to ignore it (being a true lady definitely takes active work).  But I'm tired of getting what I want.  I want to be got.  I want to be sought after, chased down, hunted with the ferocity that only the most devoted, amorous ones possess.

I admitted to one of my girlfriends tonight that my impulse was to try and think of something to say that might encourage him to ask me out.  But then I had this moment where I halted, literally stepped out of myself long enough to face me eye to eye and give me a loud slap across my cheek to wake up the sense buried inside of me.  Men don't need help.  At least not when it comes to their level of interest.  They either are or they aren't.  Those that are half way are bullshit.  And why would I want to snuggle on the couch with bullshit?  I mean, really.

I had already seen the most sane men do the most insane things this year and the amazing part of it is that some of the most romantic, loving gestures have been by men after they had cast me aside. 
Figure that one out.  I'd love to be enlightened.

I don't think that love, with all of its passion and fire and romance has room for logic.
It simply doesn't go with the outfit it's wearing.
Logic does for love what black does for brown; they just get in the way of one another.
They don't compliment each other, they take away from each other.

If love were sound and reason played a heavy part in it we'd all still have arranged marriages.  It certainly would make more sense to marry someone within our class or even above us to benefit our family and our name, someone who could draw connections for others outside of ourselves.
But that is unromantic, that clashes with the ideals of love.
And we love love.
We believe in it.
We just foolishly forget how inconsistent and selfish it can be.
But we forgive because love always believes the best.

That's the beautiful thing about all the ugliness I'd seen over the years.
I do still believe in love. 
I still believe love never dies, never fades out, never comes to an end.
And I've learned I don't need to take into consideration the actions of someone else in determining the level with which I love.
No one has that power any more.
This love thing is between me and Him and loving for Him, through Him because of Him has always given me a joyous high far superior than any vindictive thing I could ever think of to do in reaction to all the hard hearted heartless that seem to crowd my path.

My interaction with Mr. Dreamy today may have been brief, even as I went around with samples to have an excuse to be near him again.  And truth be told, while the old impatient part of me was dancing around singing, Ask me out!  Ask me out!  Ask me out!  the new trusting me enjoyed waiting, was content in not knowing, reveled in the possibility.  Sometimes we're so quick to reach our goal, to see the end results that we forget to enjoy the ride while we're on it.

And I really liked this new ride.
It didn't seem to carry the hesitancy that had been plaguing my year like a raincloud hovering above my curls.

And the magic was that in a room full of people I'm the one he chose to look at. 
Just me. 
And those moments are the little beginnings, they are what memories draw from.

And ever always His timing is perfect.
Just as it needs to be, just as it always is.