Thursday, March 24, 2011

A Date With The Incomparable Ms. Z. Drew

Part Six

Busy lives make for interesting individuals.  They ensure that you can never take an experience for granted.  Or a person.  Things just move too quickly, there’s always another demand upon your time – something to be achieved, something new to learn.  And my rate of learning had just begun the steepest climb of my adult life.  Your fault, Zy.

The exam period had commenced, a time of year that would ordinarily find me holed up with a single, dedicated study companion.  Romantic explorations, superficial or otherwise, had never been permitted.  Ever.  Until now.

I lived on the opposite side of town to the captivating Ms. Drew, which meant any kind of catch up detracted from my primary focus of study.  And yet, I found the time.  The more of each other’s company that we shared, the more we found that gelled – a common focus on nutrition and fitness; effective uses of time and energy; the inexorable pursuit of authenticity through total freedom, truth and autonomy.  These things filled me with a renewed passion and drive for living and my cells beat my mind to the knowledge that I loved her by weeks.

I rose to a ‘good morning and good luck’ text message at dawn on the day of my most intense exam.  Preparing myself calmly for entering the world, I left early, locked the door and slipped into the waiting day.  Aware of my tendency to get over-excited by imminent performance requirements, I left myself plenty of time to get lost, stuck in traffic or navigate my way around unexpected UFO landings.  I also trusted myself to drive intuitively that day and, without thinking about it, found myself on a lesser-used road to the exam venue, lined with trees, smart houses and a substantial bike path. 

I wasn’t consciously watching for cyclists, I don’t even think Zy was in the forefront of my mind at that moment, but when I saw the lycra-clad athlete straining ahead of me I realised that this was the first cyclist I had seen that morning.  Strange, considering how long I had been on the road already.  I passed at a decent speed, allowing a respectful amount of room, whilst my over-full brain quietly absorbed the colour of the bike and helmet, the shape of the body then, finally, the tilt of the mouth as the cyclist’s face writhed with the effort of pushing ever harder... 

‘No.’  I actually said it out loud.  ‘It can’t be.’

To Be Continued...

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