A Sunrise Encounter With a Submissive Man
He said Good Morning as I walked past him. I was wrapped up in my thoughts of a sweetheart submissive from my past that I almost didn’t think to acknowledge his greeting, but I did.
I kept walking and found a spot in the grass so that I could watch the sun rise over the lake at MacArthur Park. The grass was damp but I didn’t care. I allowed the water to soak through my thin, ankle length skirt as I sat cross legged and allowed my imagination to frolic freely. I sensed someone near me and I looked over my shoulder to see the young man pacing about 20 feet away. I smiled to myself.
“Hey,” I called out to him. “Are you planning to try to talk to me?”
“Um,” he replied softly. “I was thinking about it but it’s not that important, if you’re busy.”
I waved him over. “Come sit with me. Let’s watch the sun rise.”
He sat a couple of feet away, hugging his knees to his chest. I complimented his shoes and he complimented my feet, which I thought were covered by the long skirt.
“How did you see my feet?” I asked him.
“Well, I always notice a woman’s feet,” he replied softly. “I just..I love..all women. If the concept of god is true, I believe god is a woman. A brown woman.”
Ahh. How cute. I began to look for signs that he was my type.
First, he timidly approached me until I expressed that he was welcome. I like that. Then as he spoke to me, he would not look into my eyes, instead focusing on the ground. Immediately complimenting me on my feet and expressing his idea that women should be worshiped as god would be are great ways to get my attention.
“Are you a Christian?” he asked me, interrupting my assessment.
“I used to be.”
He went on to explain his journey away from religion and how he had decided to create his own belief system. I listened passively, but with interest. I rarely meet this type of man. His sentiments mirrored my own which was quite endearing to me. Maybe I’ve made a friend. That would be a miracle since I have been in L.A. for nearly four years and I haven’t made a single friend yet.
He interrupted himself several times to ask if he was talking too much. I assured him that he wasn’t. Spouting cosmic ideas of unknown origins, a young man searching not to find himself but to create himself, using language that seemed to be too over sized for his young mind. His mentality didn’t match his youthful appearance. At least he was trying. I liked that.
The sun rose and we were approached by two women bearing a pamphlet with the words- JESUS LOVES YOU- on the cover. They pointed to a nearby truck and told us their church was offering free soup cups for breakfast.
We thanked them and then I suggested we go take them up on their offer. Standing in line with other people, many of whom who had slept at the park the night before, we accepted a big cup of soup and a slice of bread. I ate it in appreciation, the warmth of the rice and chicken igniting a sense of gratitude in me, for my life, for that moment, for the dreams that would come.
We had moved on to sit down on a concrete bench. Others had gathered near us to stand in line for the neighborhood food and clothing bank that happens a few times a year at the park. As we watched the kids play as their parents stood in line, hours early, just to have first choice of donated food and clothing, we talked more.
He expressed how he feels as though he needs a woman in his life because without a woman he does not feel he can be his best self. This young man seemed to be earnest and as I thought about that I realized that geesh- I meet men EVERYWHERE. I don’t have to try or place ads on dating sites or fight for their attention. They just come up to me out of the blue wherever I go, but ,due to my out of the box beliefs, I rarely have anything in common with them.
As I sat next to this man wearing blue Converse sneakers and skinny jeans I felt…good. Before I could compliment him on being handsome, a man interrupted us by introducing himself. He was a cute and cuddly bear of a man with light brown eyes. He shared that he was planning to move to another country. You could tell that he was full of hope and wonder. His conversation fit perfectly into what we had already been discussing. He seemed to be on the same wave length, same energy, trying to awaken to certain truths about his existence, searching for meaning in a world that has tried to define him without his permission.
“I have to figure out who I am,” he said to us.
“You can decide who you are. You are free to do that,” I encouraged him. “Create an identity for yourself.”
He smiled at me and thanked me, before wandering off.
“Well, I am kind of tired,” I told the young man. He had begun bumbling and talking nonsense by this point or maybe I was just tired of listening.
“I have been enjoying your company,” he told me. “You are a blessing. I wish you wouldn’t leave yet.”
“Well, I was up all night, so it’s time for me to rest.”
“I have been up for a few days,” he shared.
“Well, I was taking this drug.”
“Are you high right now?” I asked him, my voice rose by an octave.
“I’m always high. I’m high on life.”
“But are you high on drugs right now? Which drug?”
“The type of drug that keeps you up for days at a time.”
“Whatever,” I said and stood up to leave.
“I’m on Methamphetamine,” he admitted.
Typical L.A. guy.
“Is that like, what they call Crystal?” I asked him.
He nodded and watched my reaction. Then he removed a pouch from his jacket. He jiggled it and I heard the clink of glass and plastic.
I took a deep breath and looked at him directly in his eyes.
“How do you feel? Is the world spinning around?” I asked him.
“No, I actually feel more at peace now than I do when I am not high.”
“I see,” I said. “Well. Nice to meet you.”
“Thank you for this morning,” he said to me. He seemed a bit sad.
I smiled politely and walked away, leaving behind the bright blue Converse and the quiet chaos of the park.