My body had become numb from the cold bathroom floor. I was unable to move. I felt like I had died and the world had stopped spinning. I looked at myself in the mirror and to my horror, found that the bags under my eyes were starting to make a fashion statement. I rinsed my face with cold water, took a deep breath, and realized that my battles had just begun.
A few nights ago Bond flew back into L.A. to spend one of the most romantic holidays with me. Though he was busy with his case back in D.C., Bond surprised me by coming back in time for Valentine’s. I had shown up at his place wearing a black Nina Ricci trench, patent Manolos, and homemade baklava. I felt like I hadn’t seen him for over a month, though it was only last week that I had kissed him goodbye. We spent the night in bed with champagne, with “The Millionaire Matchmaker,” and gentle kisses. That night something happened to me that had never happened to me in my life. I cried in front of man, not because of what he had done or said but because of our situation.
My heart breaks that I cannot have Bond completely part of my life. He is the perfect man for me, though I know there is no way that my family will ever approve of him. Now, dating an odar is nothing new with me. Ever since Preppy I found myself dating men outside my race in order to escape any possibility. There have always been those guys that have fulfilled a certain fantasy, the longest anyone of them had lasted was three months, and that was Stallion. I had always envisioned myself meeting a nice Armenian boy, one who will get along with my brothers, crack jokes with my dad, and understand my ‘oufs.’ Instead, I find myself madly in love with a ‘white’ man born and raised in the Midwest, who until today had come across one other Armenian, his carpenter.
As Bond held me in his arms, the tears were running down my cheeks uncontrollably. How can I walk away now? I have tried to walk out of this over a hundred times, but I always found myself right back in his arms. As the morning light pushed through his shutters, I opened my eyes to find myself still buried in Bond’s arms. I looked up at his sleeping face, wondering what I had done right in my life to have such a man. It has always been my belief that once a man makes you cry they are not the one, but what do you do when it is the situation that breaks your heart? How can my family not accept someone so right? Why is my family the only thing holding me back? I could not have asked for anything more than Bond.
There are times that I wish I were with the simple, easy, Armenian man; no drama, no challenges, no questions. But would that make me happy? Would that be what I really want? No. It is these challenges that make things so beautiful, the things that are worth fighting for, the things that cannot be replaced with anything or anyone else. But the guilt of not having Bond part of my life in Glendale was troubling me; he did not deserve this. For the past couple of weeks, the undeniable feelings were surfacing. Both Bond and I knew this hurdle was going to take a lot for us to both jump over. Then again when is life easy? The most important thing in any relationship is the willingness to face any battle that may come our way, having open communication, and being able to laugh at touchy subjects.
I feel like it will take a lifetime for me to understand what the big deal is with dating someone from outside the Armenian cesspool. Whatever happened with being with the one you love? The one person who will be there when no one else will, the one who will wait for you, the one who will fly six hours to only see you for two?
Later that day I checked my emails to find one from the New Yorker. We had been chatting up about making my big move to the City and all that I was going to leave behind. It’s funny how people say things sometimes that are exactly what you need to hear, “You need to be a pillar not a liability. Stay calm and you need to establish your self, then your stock is through the roof.”
Thanks, Yankee.
Posted by Armenian Chronicles at 10:32 PM 1 comments
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 2009
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