|
The Quiet Guy - Susan Dominus
Some people find a quiet man unsettling; I
find it a pleasurable challenge.
The night I met him at a party, I wasn't sure
what to make of the man who would become my
husband. I noticed the bleached hair and the
earring, which contrasted with a certain relaxed
way he had of hanging back--it made me want to
lean in close, to see what subterranean tremors
and vibes I could discern and interpret. We were
both runners, it turned out. When I left the
party, I'd decided I wasn't interested. But I
can think of no other reason than lingering
thoughts of him to explain why, the next day--a
muggy freak of a scorcher in early May--I chose
to go running in the park. I was only half aware
that I was thinking about him when I actually
noticed him coming toward me in the distance, a
tiny pinprick of a daydream, first small, then
emerging larger and larger, as if I'd summoned
him from the shimmering asphalt.
The reality was better than the daydream: His
shirt off, tucked into his shorts and drifting
behind him, he came flying at me, all sweat,
revealed muscle, and speed, as if that terse
energy I'd detected at the party had been
unleashed. I think I recognized him before he
saw me, but I was too stunned and confused to
stop. The night before, in my sheer black shirt
and high boots, I'd thought I had the upper
hand. Suddenly I was a shambling, unkempt
jogger, running for my life in the hope that
this swift-footed Adonis wouldn't notice my
unglamorous transformation. Whether he did or
didn't, he called me the next day, thank God.
I love his coiled energy, especially now that
I've seen what happens when he lets it go. Some
people love to watch their loved one sleep; I
love to watch my loved one run for the subway,
when this ordinarily understated human being
brazenly shows off a graceful athleticism that
typically only I get to see, a secret privilege
other women might not even know to envy. Some
people find a quiet man unsettling; I find mine
a pleasurable challenge.
He dissipates all my nervous energy, and that's
a considerable amount. I love hearing him laugh
out loud from the next room, I love the cut of
his shoulders, I love the way he talks, choosing
every word carefully. But even more than that,
and I know this would surprise him, I still love
the aura I sensed the night we met: a
combination of mental focus, calm, and confident
physicality. He makes my subconscious swoon.
By: Susan Dominus
|
