Full Tank of Gas, Wandering Heart. Pretty Dresses Will Have to Wait.
When I left aboard the ferry on Sunday morning, I still had to shake the sleep loose from my eyes. Though I’d been awake for hours and wanted to go riding, I wasn’t exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Some days you just aren’t “on.”
After loading into the belly of the beast, I went up stairs and stood on the back deck of the boat. The shoreline slipped away in our wake. A man and woman stood close together at the railing. As they talked he kept reaching towards her, his hand brushed across the small of her back, his fingers moved along her arm – they shared a deep connection.
She was lovely – golden blonde hair swept back in a carefree way, loose strands dancing on the breeze. Her skin was tanned like honey and her green stripey sundress fluttered in the wind. The two of them flashed smiles at each other as though no one else in the world existed. I felt like a voyeur observing a secret held between the palms of two perfect people.
Watching them made me feel lonely. Nine o’clock on a Sunday morning is way too early for those types of feelings. That sleepy residue that was hanging around seemed to amplify everything I was feeling 10-times over.
It was hard not to want a taste of what was shared between those two people. Instead, I stood alone and staring, burdening myself with doubt. Rather than feeling like a superhero about to embark on an adventure, in my riding clothes I was dirty and man-ish and gross when I just wanted to be the beautiful girl in the stripey green dress. I believed in the green dress.
Sometimes it’s hard to reconcile that you can’t be the girl in the dress and the girl in the dirty superhero riding suit at the same time. But as much as I lamented wanting to be that beautiful girl, I’d made my choice long ago.
Full tank of gas. Wandering heart. Pretty dresses will have to wait.
11 Replies to “Full Tank of Gas, Wandering Heart. Pretty Dresses Will Have to Wait.”
We all have these feelings….I wistfully dream of being short and petite with delicate features, but being tall and gawky with flailing limbs and big feet has been something I have had to accept. It is a hard lesson to learn that people don’t care…..it is only your perception. You, who is so gifted with a fun nature, great abilities and natural beauty should be flying on cloud nine all the time. You are that blond on the boat to me.
I hear you. I really do. I’ve had those exact feelings. But good news — we’re not relegated to one role or another; we can switch. And invite love into our lives in whatever form works for us. Here’s hoping you and I find smiles and cuddles in our future.
I think that part of my problem is I want what I want… on demand. That doesn’t seem to work for other people 🙂
How do you know the woman in the stripey green dress didn’t look at you, wishing she too could be a superhero?
Maybe she IS a superhero and it was her day off
Amen to the dirty, manly, superhero suit!!! 🙂
Darn, maybe if I was wearing a pretty dress and red pumps on Saturday my engne wouldn’t have blown up on my Softail. Of course it may have made it that much harder to get a ride home.
Afterall, the list of people wanting to pick up a fat bald guy wearing a pretty dress on the PA turnpike is probably pretty slim … But it would have made for an interesting ride report 🙂
Did you ever find out what happened with your bike? This must be a rough time for you to have both out of commission/out of reach.
I only know you as a superhero in a dress who spent time eating pizza with a scuzzball just off the road. Maybe someday I’ll meet your alter ego.
You know, this really struck me funny. I completely forgot that when we met I’d just come straight from my office and was in “civilian clothes.” 😀 Maybe one day we’ll meet again out there in the great expanse. I hope I’ll be wearing my riding gear then 😀
We see what we want to see and often the lens is clouded by our own mental grime. In that dark and depressing place we’ve forgotten we are the girl in the green stripey dress.