Monday, March 01, 2004

Piatto, Cresta

Monday, March 01, 2004

Service: * * *
Food: * * *1/2
Ambience: * *
Babe Count: *

A dude sitting at the next table. Totally engrossed in smug happiness while all around him hearts are thudding in despair. Okay... not hearts plural. My heart. And maybe Jacqui's back in her spot in Fourways.If sorrow is supposed to be such an aphrodisiac, why'm I not feeling horny?

Jacqui and I met an hour or so ago at Graasroots in Village Walk. We were going to have supper, but things went a little pear shaped. As things do when break up speeches are delivered.

Got an sms from my shrink this morning. She's sick, so she was unable to have our inaugural couples' therapy session this afternoon. Which meant that Jacqui and I got to meet this evening without the benefit of mediation.

This is where we've left things... we'll be in touch with each other next at the rescheduled therapy session, whenever that might be. Jacqui has agreed to my request that she keep an open mind as to the slim possibility of this relationship resuming. I've agreed to her request that I start thinking of letting go.

Who knows? Surely there must be something at least one of us can change to make this a successful relationship?

My artist buddy, Alfred Hilton. Absolutely awe-inspiring portraitist. One of his versions of me sits on the wall above my desk. He's one of my artistic inspirations.What's really bewildering for me is that I truly don't know what went wrong. I mean, there are the obvious reasons. Pressure from outside sources. Blah blah blah.

But I got it profoundly wrong.

For me, this was the relationship of my dreams. This babe was a full five-star wonder for me. Was? Make that IS. She IS my full five-star wonder! My fantasies had li'l babies running around. Cats. A house in Tuscany. All that mushy stuff. And I can say with full conviction that this is the only woman I've ever felt broody with. She can be the mom of my kids anytime she wants.

For her, this was not the relationship of her dreams. This was a beautiful ten-month journey that has now ended.

Okay. I'll admit to being a little alarmist. Maybe she's just premenstrual. Maybe this'll all blow over somehow. But I'm also aware of being way too optimistic. So I'm fearing the worst, even though I'm hoping for the best.

And my Cajun chicken salad arrives. The Piatto philosophy seems to be about offering abundance. So there's a LOT of Danish feta cheese, and delicious, tender chicken strips. But a heck of a lot of dressing, which I'm not fond of at the best of times. So I plod through the eating, thinking about Jacqui.

I wonder if yearning has some kind of energetic impact on the universe? D'you think that if I yearn hard enough, God might prod Jacqui in the arm and say, "Hey, haven't you noticed how much you love this bloke??? Give him a try! And change the way you two do things together so you don't feel trapped!"

Okay. I'm going to give the yearning my very best shot.

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