In the Robes of a Monk

let us pray

In the Robes of a Monk (649 Words)

 

“What am I going to do? I can’t live without her. Please God, I’ll do anything, I swear I’ll devote my life to doing good deeds, just let her be alive and safe. Oh God! where the hell is she?”

 

     A little melodramatic to be sure, but what do you expect from a guy who was studying to be an actor and dime-store philosopher. But I can assure you that these were the thoughts that raced through my mind, as I waited for my girlfriend, Joanne, to arrive from Michigan on a cold winter’s night in the LaGuardia Airport.

 

     She missed the first two flights and this was the final flight to arrive from Michigan. Now there were no cell phones, internet or instant communication devices in those days, just the damn Phone. After she missed her first flight, I called her roommates asking them if they heard from her. They said she left early for the airport and thought she’d be in New York by now. I put them in a panic.

 

     After she missed the second flight, I called her mother, who lived on Long Island, if she heard from her daughter. She wasn’t even aware that she was coming home to New York. I freaked her out as well.

 

     She was supposed to arrive at 4 Pm. It was now 11:30; this was the last flight to arrive. If she wasn’t on that flight, I made a pact with myself to become a monk and cloister myself off from the world. I had her lost at sea, hijacked to Cuba, and lots of other fun scenarios.

 

     The plane landed, passengers disembarked, sweat poured out from every pore of my body. I prayed to every god that ever existed for her to be on that plane. To my utter joy and relief, she was the ninth person to walk out that passenger tunnel.

 

     To her astonishment, I lifted her off her feet, kissed her all over, and wept into her arms, all the while telling her how much I loved and needed her. She was truly perplexed and asked me why I was acting like she was my long lost love coming back from the dead.

 

When I told her why, she just shook her head in dismay and said,

 

“I told you that I was on standby. I wanted to save a few bucks. I warned you that I may be late and to wait as long as was needed. Now I have to tell my mom why I didn’t tell her I was coming home, and call my friends to tell them I’m alive and well. This is what you get for not listening. No harm done, I’m healthy and alive, let’s go back to your place and cuddle.”

 

     I laughed along with her, and was quite happy that things turned out alright.  We had one hell of a great weekend together, but from that night on, things between us were never the same.

 

     The thought of loving someone more than I loved myself was mind boggling. Also the fact that I may have needed her more than she needed me just didn’t sit well with my over inflated ego. I asked myself how I could let one person have so much power over me. This scared me silly. Rather than confront her with these conflicted feelings and embracing them, I closed myself off from her and slowly distanced myself from the relationship.

 

     She was a graduate student studying to be a clinical psychologist and understood more what was going on with me than I did. She was patient and loving and tried to break the wall that I made. But patience only goes so far. As a parting gift she made me a Monks outfit and told me to hit the road. It was I that ran, but it was her that got away.…