I shall not envy lovers

I shall not envy lovers
But long for what they share.
--Aida, Elton John's Aida

[Is it significant that when titling this entry, I thought of an allusion to a piece by one of the most conspicuously gay entertainers? Perhaps not; I recognized this queer connection only later. Still, I think it's worth noting. And now it's been noted.]

Today when several of my colleagues and I were en route for our daily dose of caffeination, Rick and Aurora were walking ahead of me. Since their relationship isn't yet public knowledge, they refrain from all real signs of affection in public. Still, even without hand-holding, a peck on the cheek, or even an exchange of knowing glances, the sight of their walking side-by-side was enough to reawaken a long-felt, often-suppressed longing.

Why can't I have that? Where is my Rick? Where is my Aurora? The familiar monologue, usually too whiny even for me, today seemed to merit real sympathy. This image of their synchronous steps as he leaned over and placed a delicate message in her ear--this planted a seed in me.

...a seed that germinated during my evening writing class. "Write about something of which you have a strong memory, but without telling me how you feel about it. Use no words of judgment." Foolishly, I picked the memory of a beautiful young man I saw once in a gay bathhouse in Korea: sad, dark eyes like pools of midnight; smooth, tanned skin, full lips. I remembered how much I desired him, how he let me sit next to him and brush his leg with my toes, how I will never enter a real relationship with him, or any other man.

And I knew that I couldn't write about any of that, unless I were willing to bawl in front of my classmates, which I decidedly was not. So instead I sat while from everyone else, memories flowed from mind, to hand, to paper.

After class, I escaped to the restroom to collect myself. Miraculously, the stall was like my phone booth: entered a emotionally pathetic Clark Kent, and emerged Superman, unfazed by the incident.

Later in the evening, I recounted this series of events to my (Christian) friend, Patricia. After a couple failed attempts at wise counsel, she came up with the following:

"A dating or marriage relationship will not solve your problems, nor will it fill the void you have in your life. I recently talked to a woman who was hoping a husband would bring her happiness, but once she got married, she realized this wasn't the case. She said she was still lonely, even with a great husband. You need to find the things you're looking for in Christ first, because if you don't, you won't be satisfied no matter what other things you add in your life."

Sigh. And how long will it take to find full satisfaction in Christ? I think it's gonna be a long, long time.