Trouble comes knocking

She.

Yeah, Her! Phone calls. Texts. WhatsApp. Twitter DMs. It all feels like a dream, somewhat. I don't choose my words. I say what I feel, I say what I mean. I hope She does too.

There is a simplicity to it all that is so complex. It means something, I feel. It feels...true. That discombobulates, a bit.

It's 9 O'clock. The power is out, so I don't know if this device will hold out a bit longer. But all that is meaningless because all that occupies the mind is the sense of Her. The fact that after all this time there is much to reveal, much to discover fills me with anticipation. Is this what the Prof and the Doc went through? I don't know. They say very little about that.

Panic. That's the word. Panic. One minute I'm staring at a hundred lines of a draft that I have worked on for months, years. The next minute her face, uncharacteristically hiding behind Ray Ban frames (yes, I noticed) was there and I...panicked. Was something wrong? Why was She there?

Purple. I remember purple. But I don't remember what happened next. Did I tell Her that she looked completely bewitching? I don't know. I know that for three and a half minutes, my heart skipped so many beats that my phone's heart-rate monitor thought that it was a coronary incident. Believe you me, my friends, when I tell you that it was the best two hundred and ten seconds of my life. Bar none. (Maybe not Jamhuri Day, but pretty close.)

Now I am in trouble. Mary, Lilly, Olivia and Maureen have all these fancy ideas about what it all means. Spoilsports! I need time to work out through the fact that I panicked. And then promptly wished for a snifter of the Double Black.

Thank God there are only nineteen of you who read this blog and that all of you are remarkably stoic. If you were the chatty commenting type that would be mortifying. I wonder what you make of my musings? Are there some of you who think, "What an idiot?" Probably. I doubt very much you read these musings and rethink your deeply held convictions. Anyway, I'm in trouble now.

There is a chance that I am now in a headspace where everything tends towards the panicky when it comes to Her. What did you do when your life got upended the way mine has? Did you confide in your BFFs? Did the "gang" weigh in on the pros and cons? I don't know. What I do know is that for once I am putting on the kilos simply because I have no reason to think of the what ifs and the what might bes. That is a good thing, right?

So, there she was, looking all svelte and shit and I was thinking, this room is all women. That can't work. So, after the "What are you doing here" panic, I spirited Her away from the door, hurriedly made perfunctory chit chat, got Her in the lift and then went completely nuts for three or four minutes, cooking up sentences in my mind about who She is, what She means to me and why Olivia, Maureen, Lilly and Mary need not concern themselves with Her and why She smiled so prettily at me. I am so in trouble.