Journal Entry 3- On Men and Women Relationships
I have been thinking of a time when all of my contributions to the stream which my friends and I all know as thoughts of life broken down, were a little- well, disconnected, causing them to fall back, although some of my thoughts rushed before the others. They were discombobulated, not working in uniformity. The stream of life and all of its molecules, elements, its different factors, but human thought its driving force, was disturbed by this particular dynamic. My mind was not in perfect tandem, and I did not therefore contribute to the balance of life, but rather became a bane of this balance. The flow of human thought is comprised of various, unique charges of energy each individual contributes. These charges compliment each other in the manner that married couples create a balance of different attributes. The old adage, ‘opposites attract,’ may be somewhat true, if balancing of personalities is taken into consideration. The individual charge however, I think must have disturbed the balance of energies. My own streamed from a blown fuse, which ricocheted in many directions, and I wonder, now, in my calm musing, how my spinning head must have confused those around me.
“Constance.” I lifted my willowish blond hair, pulling it back out of my eyes, as my name was called. When I saw who it was that stood, just a little to the side, with a look slightly akin to puzzlement causing a small downturn on his mouth, and a trace of something in his dark eyes that couldn’t be analyzed, my heart lifted slightly. This lack of heaviness did not touch my face. My eyes and my smile, remained somewhat guarded, as if I was afraid of pulling aside the dark shade that covered my spirit up. It went up from its place over my heart though, I couldn’t help it.
“How are you doing?” You jerk, I thought to myself silently. You haven’t talked to me in days.
“I’m fine, how are you?” I allowed the hard line of my mouth to carefully soften a bit. I twirled my pen around in my hand as I met his gaze, because for some odd reason I always engaged in a subconscious battle of what I should do with my hands when I spoke to him. My interests were always split between doing something on paper and talking. Should I feign working? I didn’t know how much to meter out in each area, but I know that I never wanted to give my full attention to him- but here I always fought a battle, because that’s where my full attention wanted to be.
“Good, good,” he said, stuffing his hands down his pockets in a deliberately negligent act. Ahh, so he’s nervous, I thought. “I just thought I’d stop by your office on my way back from the interview I just went to.” My curiosity was pricked. I raised my eyebrows.
“You went to an interview?” I could tell that he was trying to disguise a smile. He was either really pleased about the results of how it went, or he was really pleased to be telling me about it. I didn’t stop to guess at which one.
“Yeah, just down the street. At the UPS building. I’m up for a part-time position there.” He shrugged. “You know- it’s- just to give me a few extra dollars.” Then he flashed me a bright smile. “I can’t pay for all of this tough coursework.” I chuckled at his attempt at joshing with me. Joking in our conversation always made it easier. I didn’t feel so wrong-footed when I had wit at my disposal.
“No, I guess you can’t.” I couldn’t think of what to say to that. I hated the polite smile that seemed determined to cling to my face, and my brain’s inability to work properly. I felt sure that I was only fueling the long-standing notion, in this moment, that blonds are dumb. “But that’s fantastic. I mean it’s really great that you got an interview, at least. Any money in your pocket is better than not having anything. Do you think it went well?” He shrugged.
“I think it went pretty well. At least, I hope it did.” He frowned a bit, casting his eyes askew with this diverting thought.
“It probably did. I wouldn’t worry about it, anyway. I’m sure you have beautiful interviewing skills. They’ll love to have you. What is the position for? Packaging and handling?” He shrugged, yet again.
“Yeah, something like that. I think it’s a variety. Cashiering, handling and shipping . . . maybe driving, too. I’m not really sure.”
“Well I’m sure you did well.” He smiled, meeting my gaze. Without realizing it, I held it for a moment. “Thank you.” Really? Come on! All I did was say- oh, for pete’s sake! Why did he always have to complicate everything? Yet I was smiling.
“You’re welcome.” My voice rang out like a bright, shiny, silvery note rings out of an instrument. There was a pause between us. I noticed that he had kept the distance from me he’d held when he first walked into the office, and hadn’t taken a step closer to my desk from where he’d stopped. The slight trace of puzzlement, which he’d been trying to hide, was waging a war on his facial features. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you soon, though, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll see you soon. Goodbye Austin!”
With another cheerful wave, and a special smile he’d seemed to have put aside just for me, he was gone. I put my head down in my hands and groaned, letting the strands of near-white again fall over my face, hiding me from view. Why, oh why, did he have to complicate things so much? I was fine being an editor for the Sunday column in the Eccentric Weeklies. I did not need anyone walking into my life and stirring up an emotional boiler that emitted too much steam. I liked my life. Well, I wasn’t exactly living out my dream of being a famous writer in New York, with a cup of gray tea in my hands and a master of creative language, but I was getting there. Honestly, I didn’t need something like this distraction.
I have finished detailing one of several similar encounters of confusing energies. My friends are writers, like I, and we make it a point of ours to study the balances of life based upon flow of thought between people. Personally, I am of the opinion that men are primarily responsible for messing up the calm sense of peace that humans have the privilege of owning when everyone is outputting positive energy, and good quality thoughts towards others. I think my friends agree with me, but, then . . . hmm. That’s interesting. They are all women. I jest. I know men say the same about our gender. I’m sure that relationships between men and women light a fuse every now and then, and this is simply because both parties have met. Confusion is emitted from both. Ah, well. It’s interesting to think about the thought pool and its implications. But, to be honest, I don’t very much enjoy being in the middle of it . . . well, maybe I do.