There comes a moment in every man’s life where he gazes into his partner’s eyes with a longing so deep that it touches the receiver’s soul. You could even say it’s a gaze that is more than life itself, aided by the twinkling of stars that has somehow been born from the universe. You are looking at a deep galaxy of lights, where each illumination is a memory that the bearer holds dear. And suddenly, just like the quickness of the snapping of fingers, a stillness of time manifests into infinity. It is just the two of you who matter, as the noises around you mute. You both seem to be in the know, while the rest of the world ceases to exist. That gaze, the one that makes you almost feel like you know the meaning of life, morphs into something that logically you can’t comprehend, and yet emotionally understand without question. Once this realisation hits, you become very aware that your breath becomes caught up in the thickness of the air around you, making it hard to digest the intensity . It’s a rarity… but if you are lucky enough to experience it, it is likely one that you will never forget.
I have had the great pleasure of experiencing such a gaze, not once but a few times throughout my life. And with each, came a knowing that at that moment the man that was doing the gazing cared for me without question. It was reassuring, comforting and probably made me overlook other blemishes that I otherwise would have never allowed. But once the gaze materialised, all rationale would fly right out the window. It was a drug so potent and so euphoric that I stuck around in the hopes of experiencing it again. I was a girl who loved love after all. Each gaze somehow cemented my romanticised conviction about love. As I look back on each encounter, I do so with a longing and admiration that I was fortunate to experience the amount that I did.
I remember where I was and what I was doing with each gaze. Even the one’s that were many years ago still feel like new. But I have realised that there’s definitely different variation of the ‘gaze’. There are one’s, a gushy gaze, that allow you to open up and let the person in. While other’s, a grand gaze, that make you feel like you are an admired and wanted human being. And then there’s the doozy of all gazes, a gladiator gaze, which is the one that awakens your soul. The one where you can see each other growing old together.
For me, each experience has no doubt been ingrained right down to my core and from time to time I find myself thinking about those moments. I don’t think of the men, or the relationships. I think about the feeling, about the emotions, about the senses. It comes to mind more when I lose faith in men. Or when a devastating experience knocks me back into my fortified walls. Or when a momentary overwhelming feeling of loneliness settles in. But I want to make it clear that I don’t think of these instances to reminisce on what I’ve lost, or even to do a pity party, or a woe is me chant. No! I think of them because those feelings make me happy. Happy that I actually was able to experience such a powerful emotion. Happy that even despite the uncertainties that life brings, for a brief moment I felt love in all its richness and grandeur.
The gaze is a powerful phenomenon surrounded by yearning, pheromones and enigma. It’s something that makes you feel invincible. But with this awe-inspiring power comes delirium and a susceptibility to goofiness, vulnerability and even allowing the giver of the gaze more leeway then what you ever intended. So take great care when receiving the gaze. Cherish it, adore it, and be mindful of it. The whizzing of whimsy will engulf you; revel in it. Even if I never am able to receive the gaze from another man again, at least I can look back in fondness of the ones I have had the honour of obtaining.
❤ ❤ ❤