Fleeting Love by Rodin
The weather was perfect for this time of year. It made walking around Lake Ella that more enjoyable as we walked hand in hand talking about everything and nothing at all. The moments of silence had long ceased to be uncomfortable. One does not need to run one’s mouth constantly to enjoy the company of another person. I find that talking too much often does more harm than good. I thought about the Pinot Grigio that was on ice and how much we were going to enjoy it later.
After a few trips around the lake, we took a seat on one of the many benches that were available. We began to talk about Albert Camu’s L’Etranger. The discussion was about Meursault and his lack of emotions. I hung on her every word. While we discussed his lack of emotions, I felt my own coming to the surface, even as I tried to deny the lack of my own. I realized that even though we live in an absurd world, I had feelings for this woman. How I longed to kiss her. I started to doubt the reality of existentialism.
But then I gave into the fact that it was my basic humanistic nature kicking in. There are no emotions, only basic human needs. There is the need to survive, the need to eat, the need for sex. We only have emotions because we are told that we are supposed to have them. I desired her because she was there. My thoughts turned to those that are considered sane only because I was told that my way of thinking was insane. Who is anyone to tell me that I am insane?
But to make a long story short, we made it back to her place and we uncorked the wine. We went through the motions of sniffing the wine, checking the dog legs, and the brief tasting of the fruitiness of the wine and decided that it was indeed a good bottle and vintage. When I had a sufficient amount of liquid courage, I bent over to kiss her and she vanished. For at that precise moment, when my lips finally reached hers, she disappeared like a ghost in my dreams.
I woke up and realized that it was in fact just a dream. I eagerly want to go back to sleep in the hopes that I can resume that dream. Some dreams are worth reliving whether you believe in emotions or not. How I long to taste those sweet lips.