I'm sitting across the desk from his fancy curved monitor. we'd met at that fancy crypto guys dinner, but I had emailed him a few weeks before about something else, and serendipitously apparently my face had been displayed on the CS building as esteemed alumni (they didn't tell ME that), so all three layers on in-yun leading to some sort of culmination to that meeting.
i'm waiting for my colleague to join me. in my mind she's much richer, and therefore much more succesful. I love that she's single, flitting from one european country to the next, thin, had her 40th in thailand and rented a yacht with the best booze and food i've ever had in my life. i haven't had such a nice weekend in my life. she lives in one of those insane estates only people here have, in a separate area designated only for her.
she finally comes, sits and we start discussing. The attention he's giving my words is flattering. the way he's looking at me, I have to try hard to ignore it. and as she's talking, I'm suddenly seeing her through his eyes - no real academic accomplishments, a nepo baby doing a minor role in her family business. Run of the mill. he sees me, my grades, my awards, my work, and is more impressed, and it takes his kind brown eyes for me to see this.
its shocking how easy the conversation is. we want to introduce a course which will give university credit. he wants me to teach it. she is dying to teach it, but he kind of dismisses her and asks me directly. I look over at her, and say let's discuss. I'm cautious, I know how much most of my undergrad profs knew. the caliber of faculty in this place is nuts, they're doing cutting edge research, know about the latest shit and there is no way in hell my non-PHD ass is going to ever achieve that level of mastery. she's talking, but really wasn't ever a good student and studied in some tier 2 local university so really wouldn't know either. his warm enthusiasm wins the day and it gets pushed through.
somewhere in this process i have a dream. I'm teaching in that university classroom. I am way underqualified. for some reason he is there. there is some coffee, a request for advice. I go into that office with the curved monitor, and since its safe in my dream (i know even then its a dream), there are no cameras, no ethics, no students, no wife of his probably, no staff, no real room even in this shadow realm. I know i could end it, wake myself up, pull myself out, but I allow it for the briefest of moments, acknowledging the outside conscious world where Z broke me - tore me apart limb from limb with his beatings and his lies and his mental torture - and how i am whole again like some pottery kitsungi-d together with lines of gold glueing back the pieces of my spirit - and that for that one briefest of moments in my dream I can allow his kind brown eyes to come real close, hold my face, and allow a man kiss me again.
