My Addiction to Ry Ting

I met Ry Ting while doing my thesis in graduate school; a dragonfly brought us together. I was at the downtown library, researching sewage lagoon usage in Third World countries, when a dragonfly fluttered in and landed on my reed shaped pen. Too easily, my mind sucked in to imagining what life was like as one of the world's most incongruent insects. The miracle beauty of those translucent rainbow wings, pinched onto the body of a hugely mishappen fly. Where did it come from, what was its life like, where would it be going next, what was the story behind this creature?

And then from behind the story forming in my mind, I heard,

"I'm Ry Ting," he said, "and your life will never be the same again."

His eyes were so easy to look at, then. His smile--warm, inviting, welcoming. Even the mocha cream curls poised just above the eyebrows gave the hint of wanting to be touched and played with. He was so easy, then.

My pen dropped, I picked it up, and when I rose, we watched as the dragonfly bobbed it's way out of the library and into the heat of a summer day. I don't remember that any words were spoken between us, but we knew to go to a coffee house and muse the story of the dragonfly we shared. The thesis no longer held meaning in my life. Not when Ry Ting and I had a story to explore.

We laughed, we shared, we exposed our vulnerabilities. Between us, we knew nothing of how things were supposed to be. We just were. It was so easy, then.

Everyday after that, he showed up. Everywhere I turned there he was, begging my attention. The whirlwind, the passion, the satisfaction of being around him--it was all so perfect. Looking back, I can finally admit that I was part of the addiction. I, well, I was flattered.

And then, on some days, he was cold. Some days, I just couldn't even reach him. It was like I could see him, feel his warm breath against my shoulder, tickling against my ear, but he was estranged from me. Once, we were in the same coffee house, and he would not even look at me. He sat with another woman, toying with her hair, and looked at me, smirking all the while.

Angry! I grew so angry! I hurled my notebook at the ground and swore Ry Ting would never touch my mind again. He would never seep within my soul because the pain of his loss was too  deep for me to bare.

He just laughed, and sauntered away, the other woman held captive by his spell.

But when he showed his face the next day, I ignored all of the nasty words swirling in my head and grabbed him back to me.

Now, we are partners. Oh, yes, it is true that our relationship will never hold the ease of those first days. Seems the more entwined we are, the more difficult our connection. But I can't let go. I am hooked, cast under the allure of those first words of Ry Ting. Because he was right, my life will never be the same.

Heather Leigh