I don’t profess to be a philosopher of any sort but if there is truism that holds any water, it is this: there is no love with lust and anyone who says otherwise has experienced neither.
Of course, the vice versa doesn’t hold one iota of truth. Especially for guys, there can be absolute lust with no love whatsoever. The eureka moment for the above statement came three weeks ago when I met Linda. She had just joined the company and was sitting at the manager’s desk going through orientation, i.e., targets, expected behaviour, job description, basically the whole shebang.
She was a pretty little thing, wearing a body-hugging black dress, and naturally, I found my mind wandering far from work matters. She must have noticed because when I looked at her again, she had this mischievous smile on her face and I think she gave me the faintest of winks. The manager asked me to introduce her to the other workmates and then added, “Take care of her, she is your responsibility.” This time I swear she winked at me!
I was in red hot trouble, I knew it. I quickly ran through the options available, ignoring the simmering chemistry between us. After all, I am a pretty level-headed guy… most of the times. Just go with it wherever it is we were headed or have a serious conversation about what the hell was going between us.
As we left the manager’s desk heading to the lift, I got a full look at the curves and the legs. That is where option one flew out of the window and onto the rubbish heap. This was going to happen, whatever ‘this’ was. I went first, “Lovely dress, you look gorgeous.”
“I bet that’s the line you use for every new girl,” she replied.
“Not unless they are called Linda and wear gorgeous little black dresses,” I said.
“Is that why you were staring and drooling at me earlier?” she replied.
“Staring and drooling?” I stammered.
“Yes, I almost had to collect your jaw off the floor for you.”
“You know what let me make up for my bad manners. How about dinner after work?”
“If you take care of me well today, you may have more than just dinner,” she said with a twinkle in her eye and walked off without giving me a chance to reply.
To be honest, the rest of the day was a bit of a blur I remember willing the clock to move faster to 5pm, stolen glances, coy flirting, winks, and little touches. Actually, our workmates thought we knew each other from somewhere before, which couldn’t be any further from the truth. Frankly, it was quite surreal, that feeling of doing something and you have no knowledge of how it is going to turn out or if it is right, wrong, ethical or stupid.
As soon as it clocked 5pm, we were out of there. Instead of dinner at a restaurant, we picked takeaway and headed to my place. I still wasn’t so sure where this was headed, but I had gleefully signed up for the ride anyway and didn’t want to chicken out now.
When we reached home, I simply threw the takeaway on the table. All that sexual chemistry that had been bubbling under the surface just exploded, movie-style, and we were at each other before anyone could say ‘pause.’
And then she said: “I love you.” I thought I misheard but then she repeated it “I love you.” There was no mistaking it this time. That gave me pause. A tiny little devil on my shoulder was urging me to just say ‘I love you too’ and get on with it.
Call me old-fashioned, but I think anyone (whatever the circumstances) should only say I love you when they mean it. Just like that, the bubble burst and all was left was awkwardness… oceans and oceans of it.
And at work, it is even chillier than at the North Pole.
Source : The Observer