O.K. So this post isn’t really about the UPS man. Although he is another one of those friendly, energetic people who have crossed my path with whom I like being friends. I see him almost every day because he is either delivering or picking up boxes from our office. But really, this post isn’t about him. It does sorta involve him, though.
Sometimes, in the afternoons when he is supposed to pick up boxes, he is running late, so he calls me and asks me to leave the boxes outside the office in a secure place, because I will have closed up and left before he will get there.
This happened one day this past week. But he must have come up to pick up the box at the same time I walked away from that area. I took the stairs down from our office and he took the main elevator down from the office, so we passed each other in the hall on the first floor. We turned around to smile and say hi to each other as we each kept going.
I went to my van and cried.
It’s not that I wanted to go home with the UPS man. It’s just that his friendliness made me wish I was going home to a much more pleasant, comforting, loving, friendly atmosphere, rather than the tension of nothingness that I actually do go home to.
I wished I was going home to a place where I felt loved and cared for. Wishing I was going home to a loving man and we could make dinner together, talking and enjoying each other. And I could tell him about my day and feel like I really mattered to him. And then later we could make love. Wonderful love-making.
Anyhow, I hope this post makes sense and that you understand that, even though I did give it that title, the post is not actually about the UPS man.