“Well there is an example of behavior learned in captivity.”
Betty and I are at the Woodland Park Zoo, the day before I depart for Philadelphia, watching an ostrich peck incessantly at the metal cage that divides us. We have been watching for the last twenty minutes.
“It’s as if he thinks that eventually he will break through.”
“It’s disturbing.”
My cell phone rings and I can barely look away long enough to answer the phone
“It’s Paris calling.” I instantly recognize the French accent speaking to me on the other side of my cell.
Betty and I are at the Woodland Park Zoo, the day before I depart for Philadelphia, watching an ostrich peck incessantly at the metal cage that divides us. We have been watching for the last twenty minutes.
“It’s as if he thinks that eventually he will break through.”
“It’s disturbing.”
My cell phone rings and I can barely look away long enough to answer the phone
“It’s Paris calling.” I instantly recognize the French accent speaking to me on the other side of my cell.
“Didier!”
Didier tells me he wants to spend my birthday with me in August. This makes me nervous. I met him a year ago for a night of flirting and unrequited crushing. We have kept in touch. But our monthly phone calls have made us both real. And over the past year I have pretty much erased my fantasy image of him.
Gone is the mystery of that first night strolling through the streets of New Orleans, trying on the idea of something romantic and exciting with this foreign stranger. The last year has changed me. Now I'm afraid of things that move too fast. They feel false. They hurt.
I have to stay focused on my belief that patience and friendship are the true foundation of lasting relationships. I try not to be excited, but I am. More than a little.
I should know better.
I hang up the phone and chase after Betty who has already moved on to watch them feed the tigers.
No comments:
Post a Comment