— Proverbs 4:30
Vanity
The weather was unseasonably mild for January—rain and fog day after day until Toronto felt more like Vancouver and the campus dark and gloomy.
Fortunately, the foul weather matched my mood—I had to confront Vanity today.
At least nature was in sympathy with me, casting everything in monochrome, but would it subdue her colours and mute the enchantment of her beauty?
Somehow I doubted it because her image from my dream intruded and there she was, in all her technicolour glory.
I couldn't focus on her lips or stare into her eyes and even stray strands of her hair would distract me.
Strangely, however, this morning she was not strident and challenging but subdued and silent.
I felt almost guilty at the end of class asking her if she could hang back so I could have a word with her.
It made it even worse when she mutely nodded and meekly went back to sit in her seat.
This was not what I expected and I almost searched my mind for some other pretext so I could avoid confronting her...
but I forced myself to continue on as planned.
I went over and took a seat beside her but before I could utter a word she whispered, "I'm sorry."
Her sad demeanour and unexpected apology disarmed me.
"What are you sorry for, Vanity?" I asked quietly.
"I'm sorry I embarrassed you and said you were sexist."
"Apology accepted," I smiled. "Sometimes things get said in the heat of debate that are quite unintended."
She nodded and lowered her gaze and I saw tears staining her cheeks.
I felt completely helpless.
"I never meant to attack you. I have the greatest admiration for you. I don't know why I act the way I do when I enter your class. I felt bad about it all day and even dreamt about it last night. Can you forgive me?"
She was daubing at her tears with a balled up Kleenex so I retrieved fresh tissues from the box on my desk and handed them to her.
"Of course, I forgive you, Vanity. You're quite brilliant and always have an insight to share that sparks a classroom discussion. I just wanted to clear the air between us because I felt friction between us."
"I knew it," she moaned, "I didn't want to come across that way—it's the opposite of how I feel."
She was agitated now and grabbed her raincoat and books and started to head for the door.
"Vanity, wait," I called out and reached to grasp her hand to detain her.
She turned and melted into my arms and I found myself stroking her long hair to soothe her and assuring her it was all right.
I realized I had crossed a boundary and wisely pulled back.
Thank you, her eyes said, but she was silent. She smiled gratefully, through tear-filled eyes and then quietly left the room.
I had to sit down. I was trembling.
It wasn't like my dream I told myself, * we didn't kiss.*
That part was true but little consolation. I crossed a line with her despite knowing the danger. A campus romance between a professor and student are not unheard of, but push all the boundaries.
I wasn't sure where to go from here and was doubly sure she had no idea either.