I sat there on the comfortable sofa inside this pretty stylish cafe. I was waiting for someone. I did not know what it will be like meeting that person. No, this wasn't the first time I was meeting her. I was fidgeting around with my phone as I waited. I kept shuttling between looking around at the other people in the cafe and checking Facebook - almost feeling guilty every time I would get back to my phone because of my own personal hate of people checking their phones in social surroundings. I changed tables twice as I waited for her and now I was finally outside - the seat was nice, someone was smoking and there were gentle wafts of wind making me a passive smoker. It was, one can say, a perfect mix of anticipation, numbness and vulnerability.
And then she came. I did not know whether to get up and shake her hands or hug her or just be, while she took her seat. My blankness and numbness had started to show right away. Even before I could do something, she was already taking a seat right opposite me. (Thankfully), she changed her mind and shifted to the seat next to me instead. Alright, so she was here. What next, what next. Yeah, let me talk about the day - what's going on with her and all the happy-sad things. That should make for an indulging conversation and I should be able to participate without needing the strength to talk about my own day or my happy-sad things. If necessary, I might add some snippets from my own experiences to be able to better empathize with her. Yeah that sounded like a good game plan and that's how things progressed.
Coming back to anticipation, numbness and vulnerability. These remained the highlights of the entire conversation. I listened to her with anticipation. I really wanted to hear all that she had to say. I did not know if I would be able to understand all of it, or empathize with all of it, or help her in any way if she needed any. But that wasn't the point. I just wanted to listen to her. Numbness. Something that I have felt for a long long time now. I don't even remember when that started. It is that feeling when you will hear or see something extremely disturbing or violent or crazy - but none of that inner turmoil shows up on the face or in one's actions. I feel like a zombie - going on about the day like nothing really happened - while feeling pretty disturbed and guilty at the same time. And yes, vulnerability. This, in fact, is probably one of the most spiritually satisfying things I have felt since the recent past. I can choose to feel vulnerable, to drop my guard, with certain people. She was one of them. She also happens to be notorious about how she uses this to make me feel pretty bad about myself every time I meet her. I don't mind it though - in fact it almost feels cathartic.
So yeah. We chatted. We had our tea. I dropped her back home. And then I came back and wrote this.