Thunderbolt

 I'm not a "romantic" kind of guy. And try as we men may, we struggle with the female idea of what being "romantic" is. I mean, I'll rub her feet after a long day, listen to her without trying to "fix it" and do dishes when she'd tired. Sometimes I'll do stuff just so she doesn't have to, but let's face it. I have my limits, and  it's simply because the male brain just ain't wired for this whole "romance" thing. Prove it to yourself guys.

Get through Bridges of Madison County in one sitting. Without the nervous tics, checking your phone or involuntary twitches. Go ahead, I'll wait.

You won't make it 15 minutes.

I'm married and divorced...twice, but it wasn't for the lack of trying. Seems men's idea of trying is mostly utilitarian, whereas a woman's is...well, maybe that's why I am twice divorced, If I'm being honest here. I don't have a flipping clue what women equate to "romance".

Or I didn't until "then".

And folks, "then" came out of absolute nowhere. She walked right through my front door and into my life. The Italians call it "The Thunderbolt". The very first time you see her, your wiring sizzles, frays, fails and leaves you dumbfounded. 

**connection lost, re-establishing, connection lost, re...** 

And don't even attempt to speak to her, the only thing you will accomplish is slobbering down the front of your shirt. Yeah, not the ideal first impression.

The Thunderbolt is cruel. It's powerful and it will sear that initial memory into your mind for years. It never fades. Ever. Most people, thankfully; never have this experience, and I think if we're being honest, people that have this experience, would undergo a fully conscious lobotomy to erase it.

This woman burned herself into my awareness for 12 years.

I think the worst thing that can happen is the actual thunderbolt strike itself. It couldn't care less if you are in a committed relationship, or that acting upon it would shatter someone's heart. That's up to you to knock down and you need to do The Right Thing. Regardless. It ain't always about you pal. Sometimes the timing just plain stinks and you have to deal with that. 

I did.

Men are not equipped psychologically or emotionally to process this tsunami of raw emotion. Thoughts careen off of one another at the speed of synapse and we can't even identify them as they crash around inside our heads. What the hell was that?  Or that? Geez, make this STOP!

It gets worse. That turmoil is going to make its way into your heart. I promise, you big macho, I-can-bench-press-a-Buick guys. This is going to kick your ass. A lot, and for an extremely long time.

At said encounter, there was absolutely nothing either of us could do...I'm sure she thought my nervous glances were goofy, maybe even a tad creepy, and not at all appropriate. My loving partner of 8 years was sitting right beside me. Her husband seated next to her. Not exactly the time to meet someone with the ability to upend your entire life, and those around you.

In a word, the timing "sucked". And I had no idea how I would have even attempted to communicate this to her.

"Hi, my name's Ken. I think I love you. How's your day going?"

It was a relief when she and hubby left, but she had already carved out a huge place in my memory banks and claimed it as her own. As inappropriate as it was, well..There it was anyway. 

Always. Regardless. Relentless

Not as powerful as that exact moment, but it was easy to relive if I chose that form of torture.  Oddly enough, I found myself doing just that, even 12 years later.

Here's the part that sucks the most.

That Thunderbolt isn't reciprocal. It doesn't link you together in a shared experience. Just because I feel it doesn't mean squat. While I am trying to make sense of the emotional onslaught, she's probably doing a grocery list in her head and planning dinner meals for the coming week. See, that's the part that Sucks. 

Now, I'm going to give away a few spoilers.

It's been 12 years since I saw her last...I mean physically. No, stalking her online doesn't count. I am now a widower and she is a divorcee. We've talked, we've talked a lot and she admitted that I was always a presence in her mind, but circumstances would not allow her to explore it any further. The same went for me. We've also had the courage to admit to each other that our feelings are strong for one another and we're going to be in the #justadate mode until she gets a chance to sort all of this out on her own. In her own time, not mine. She needs to make sure I am a known quantity, and that she is emotionally ready to go further.

I just hope it doesn't take another 12 years. She has assured me that it will not. We're going to begin to sort this out, this weekend, 

Together. Really together. Not online...

Together. #justadate

I have to wonder if she's as nervous as I am. Because I'm a frickin' wreck.

Alrighty then.