It's been 3 weeks here and everything has been wonderful. I'm learning things about the world and this time around I don't need drugs to help me have an epiphany. The food here is strictly vegetarian, which I like because I've always wanted to be vegetarian but in my mom's house it's impossible. The one thing that I'm not so great at is opening up to people. Ever since the whole situation with my dad, I don't really trust people. I don't think it's bad, I think I'm just being cautious and independent. Nothing wrong with that.
The maharishi is very wise and I'm so grateful that I can have the opportunity to be guided by him. He told the few people that are here this morning that a new group of guests are arriving today which I am pleased to hear since it has been a little too quiet for comfort here. I guess I'm not used to the silence after New York.
This doesn't mean I want to talk to these people though. I don't want to get attached to anyone and then have them disappear once this whole trip is over. The maharishi told me that I should be more free and communicative, but I'm still not sure about it.
After breakfast, I decide to go for a walk. The isolation is peaceful and soon I found a rock to sit on and meditate. I realize that I need to head back after a while and I see cars approaching the buildings as I'm walking back through the gate. I expect that those are the new guests.
I watch closely as 7 people climb out the two cars. There are four men and three women. They are all wearing colourful clothing and the men grab suitcases out of the back of the guitar. I figure that I'd rather not run into them. The thought of introducing myself to people makes me want to crawl up into a ball and hide, so being me, I listen to my anxiety and head to my room.
Down the path and around the corner of the building I go, looking at my feet to avoid any eye contact, when suddenly I bump into someone and land on the floor. Great, my plan for avoiding eye contact has failed me.
I look up to see none other than Paul McCartney. What. I blink, but my sight isn't fooling me. He is the man from the Beatles and the other men are probably the rest of them.
Suddenly I realize that I have been looking at him for far too long without saying anything.
"Um, sorry." I say, going red with embarrassment and looking away.
He also seems to have forgotten how to speak properly. "Oh, uh... No problem, love. I mean I should have been looking where I was going anyway." he says hesitantly, putting out his hand to help me up.
I take his hand and stand up with his help. We stand there for a few moments until I realize how stupid I am being and take my hand back from his. Why have we both forgotten how to act normal?
"What's your name? I'm Paul."
"I'm Abigail." I say, not really sure if I'm supposed to ask another question or apologize for being so awkward.
"That's a very beautiful name." he smiles, seeming to regain his confidence.
"Thanks." I reply quietly, "Um, are you the new guest that I have heard rumors of?" No. Why don't I just walk away before I say another stupid thing.
"I guess I am. Are you the girl that the maharishi told us we need to meet?" he smirks.
"Oh, I'm not sure, what did he say?" I ask curiously.
"Just that a pretty girl was on a walk and that my friends and this girl would get along well." he says. I feel myself go even more red, but tell myself to play it cool.
"He did not say that." I state, not believing him.
"Maybe I added in the 'pretty' part." he laughs.
Okay, I admit, he is handsome but I'm not getting attached. I'm not losing someone again. "Well, I must be getting back to my room now."
"Okay," he grins, knowing that he's made me feel self-conscious, "see you later."
I nod with a sheepish smile and walk back to my room quickly, making sure I don't bump into anyone else. I decide that I should do some more meditation because it will help me relax but this time, I'm having trouble. I can't stop thinking about my strange encounter with Paul McCartney.
By dinnertime, I'm still sitting on my bed and failing to meditate. I don't know why. I need to get over myself. It's probably because I've never had any guy compliment me like that. He's just nice, that's all. I came here to get over my problems, not create more and that's exactly what I will do.
I head up to the main building at 6 for dinner, pushing any intrusive thoughts away. I open the door and take a step in when I look up to find myself face to face with Paul. Again.
He grins. I curse the universe as if it was trying to make this happen, but from all I have learnt here, I know that the universe has a reason for everything it does. Hopefully it has a good reason for this.
"Well hello again Abigail. Funny bumping into you again." he chuckles.
I laugh. "It's very strange indeed."
"I was just going to get some fresh air before dinner, would you like to come with?" he asks. This is odd. The maharishi told me the day I got here that dinner was always served at exactly 6 and no later.
"Um, I think it's dinnertime now... We shouldn't be late." I say awkwardly.
"Oh, I see you, no rule breaking with you is there?" he teases. This fires me up. I am independent. I do what I want. Paul must see that this has annoyed me. "So is Miss Goody-Two-Shoes coming?" he continues to taunt.
"Fine." I declare without realizing what I'm saying before I say it. He smirks,knowing he has won this battle.
I follow him outside. "So who are you here with?" I ask. That's a stupid question. Obviously he's here with the other Beatles.
"My friends John, George and Ringo. Also George's girlfriend, Ringo's girlfriend and my... girlfriend." Paul answers.
Why did he seem so unsure of what he was saying? Anyway, it doesn't matter. He has a girlfriend. Another reason not to get attached. I smile and nod though. "Cool, sounds like fun."
"What about you?" he asks.
"Oh, I'm just here by myself." Yes. And it needs to stay that way. By myself.
"Where is your room?" Paul asks slowly, looking around at the small cottages on the field in front of us.
"There, number 23." I point towards the direction of my room.
"Very nice. Mind if I come have a look."
I shrug and lead him to my cottage feeling scared at what is happening. People scare me.
Once we get to my cottage room he sits down on the bench outside the door and pats next to him. I sit.
"This place is beautiful, don't you think? You know, it reminds me of you." Paul says smoothly. What is he doing? That was very forward.
I blush. "Um, thanks."
"You don't like to talk much do you?" he observes.
"I'm just not sure what's going on right now." I answer honestly.
He sighs. He isn't telling me something. "We should probably head back to the dining room anyway." Paul says, standing up. He puts out a hand to help me out. I take it and he doesn't seem to let go until we arrive back at the main building.
He has a girlfriend though. He's is just being polite. It's no big deal.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe I'm Mesmerized
Romansa1967 is almost over and Abigail is still in New York. She wants to travel. She wants to open her mind. Her past has been difficult and she's losing hope for the future, but when her mom surprises her with a trip to wherever she wants, Abigail's mind...