Part 2: Close Encounter

“I built an imaginary kingdom in my mind, but I did not materialise it. I had a perception founded on emotions, but I did not cement its base on logic. I floated in the clouds of infatuation, but I did not ground my decisions on sense. I held you to the highest esteems in retrospect, found you to be above all else, placing you on a pedestal which crushed my spine as I lifted it above all that I was as a man. But I saw not the inevitability that came out of the eternity I envisioned, and so my world crumbled, and all that I never built crashed around me. And here I stumble, in a world of smiles, joy and over varied emotions born of love, I trudge on in the muds of an apocalyptic world of broken dreams, all of which pay atop a broken heart. But I must smile. I must raise this mask to my face, conceal the devastation behind my eyes and project a cool persona, one who is mellow and ready for the world. He who breaks down in silence and solitude must be protected from the sight of the world, for I foresee only shame and mockery. I must become this new outwardly strong persona, but bear the burden of a haunted spirit within. This is my punishment.”

Jordan sat in a bench in the central park square outside the restaurant. This was a Portuguese joint is a fairly upmarket area, in a line of other various eateries and fancy spots to eat. He had chosen this location for the date because he had been there once with a cousin of his. He had dressed smart casual for this date. He did not want to seem too eager, so worse a pair of black smart shoes, light blue jeans, a fitted T-shirt and a brown blazer. As usual he had made sure to get a top up shape up the day before. Jordan had a thing of always looking sharp and on point when going to any social outing, event or even meeting up with any woman. He had chosen to wear the scent of Prada for Men…it always seemed to have a positive effect on women.

 

The agreed time for the date was 8pm, and Jordan arrived 15 minutes early; 1. because he had a thing of punctuality and 2. because he was curious to see what outfit she would have on. He thought back to the night he met this woman, last Saturday. He and his best friend Joe had been getting into the swing of things in the club, the DJ was playing some excellent 90s jams, and the ratio of women to men were in favour of men. She had danced towards him and he joined her in the midst of the crowd. About five minutes into the dance he had asked what her name was. “Stacey!”, she half-shouted near his ear due to the loud music, arms round his shoulder as they swayed to the music. After a while they moved to the bar, where he ordered them a couple of drinks to rehydrate. He got to find out the basic information he needed; she was 30, had an administrative role for a housing association, no children and lived by herself. She had worn quite a sexy dress but safely on the classy side. They exchanged numbers as everyone left the club, had a long conversation on the Monday evening and her he was on a Thursday evening awaiting her arrival on their first date.

 

He noticed a lady some yards away walking towards the square. She work a knee length beige jacket, a pair of black heals and her hair was in a bun. ‘This must be her’, thought Jordan, getting himself ready and standing up. Sure enough, it was her and she approached him with a controlled smile, almost as if she did not want to give away that she was looking forward to her. He greeted her with a polite kiss on one cheek, holding her hand gently in a half shake. She looked him up and down admiringly, complimenting him “You look dashing” with a smile. “Why thank you lady, you’re looking quite glamourous yourself” he said, slightly putting on a posh English accent. She laughed, “Thanks. Shall we?” “Of course”, Jordan responded, leading the way. A waiter led them to a booth in a corner of the restaurant towards the back. The got comfortable and had a look at the menu. Stacey took off her jacket, revealing an elegant red dress with spaghetti straps, a gold necklace that matched her earrings and bangles. Jordan could smell her perfume, and it awakened his senses even more. It had a sweet scent, with a bit of strawberries to it. Stacey, on the other hand, spent the first few minutes stealing glances at Jordan’s set up. She could tell that he was a guy who worked out quite a bit; her eyes following the broadness of his shoulders, down to the V-neck top he had on, almost tantalising to the cut in the middle of his chest. She was mentally thankful that he had on a T-shirt and had taken his jacket off, and continued her visual trip down to his bulging biceps and manly forearms. ‘I bet he could carry my and flip me around in wondrous ways’, she thought, half biting her lower lips. She took a deep breath and sighed, catching a whiff of his fragrance, almost spiritually captured in the process by the invigorating scent. ‘This man smells GOOD!’, she thought to herself, almost shocked at a passing image of herself straddling him and inhaling the air all over his body. She quickly composed herself discreetly, asking him what he had decided. In a few minutes they had their meals in front of them and were tucking away.

 

Jordan and Stacey had a good half hour conversation, talking about the night at the club, the number of times either of them was approached; their jobs, basic family information etc. “So how long have you been single for?” Stacey asked. Jordan was not expecting the question, and was slightly taken aback, but tried to respond quickly without emotions. “Under six months”, he said, trying not to be vague. But Stacey was a very observant woman and picked up on that millisecond of hesitance before his response. “And how long were you two together for?”, she asked smiling politely, as if undeterred by how recent the breakup was so as not to throw Jordan off. “About 5 years”, he responded. She nodded in acknowledgement, looking away, then looking back at him “you’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” she asked, half assumingly. Jordan felt the surge of pressed-down emotions beginning to fight their way up his guts, surging. ‘No, I’m not letting this woman have ANY sign of my emotional weakness. I am the Terminator. I have no emotional connection towards ANY woman’, he tried to convince himself mentally. He tried to laugh it off and pull off his best ‘emotionally detached guy open for anything’ mask “Of course not! Ha ha!”. Stacey allowed her smiling glance to linger for a bit longer, looking at him dead in his eyes as if to catch him off guard. ‘Either he’s telling the truth, or he’s a REALLY good actor’, Stacey thought, ‘and he does not have a career in theatre, so I guess I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt’. She relaxed her shoulders, and Jordan laughed “You’re just trying to make sure you’re not dealing with a guy who’s got emotional baggage aren’t you?”, he asked.  Stacey reached for her purse, opening it up and taking out her lip gloss, applying it to her lips. “Well”, she responded “A lady needs to ensure she’s not dealing with the aftermath of any man’s relationships. Or should I say, any remnants of emotional attachment, be they anger, love, pain, sadness, longing.” Jordan acknowledged her points “True…true”. 

 

Jordan smiled, projected the image of a man who was just out on a date, a pleasant guy who had a bright future ahead of him, no worries in the world, looked after  himself. But deep inside, he was fighting a battle. He was reinforcing the restraint on his true emotions. He was not ready to seek for a relationship with anyone. He was a broken man, damaged emotionally within. His heart was currently located in the past tracks of another woman; trodden on, dragged underneath the wheels of her forward-moving mind-set. The pieces of his soul had been scattered around his world, and to Jordan, he was just a man moving about in life now trying to pick the pieces up. This lady, Stacey, was an intuitive individual, but he had just had a narrow escape with her; she had unknowingly walked past the house of emotional turmoil. She had seen the painting of a screaming man, who froze in time at her glance, but had not heard his cries for redemption, for peace and the longings of another. He could not let this happen again. He was going to need to work on maintaining a steady, unmoved mask of confidence and sternness. He might have to be cold within, in order to project that to the world. They must not know. Nobody must know.