In the blur of a random night on the town, I saw you for the first time.
It was the third bar of the evening but the first I had never wanted to leave. I settled at the bar on my number five of whiskey somethings. At this point, the somethings somehow tasted sweeter. It was busy but not crowded and my wandering eye had fun wandering. Subtle ups and downs in between light conversations. It was like all the other nights in all the other bars, and it may as well have been all the other faces. No one stuck. No one needed to.
Someone started mumbling something about live music. And some guy who looked like any other guy started to sing and play guitar. But by his side came a voice I not only haven’t been able to drown out but a face I close my eyes to. It was you.
I swear in that moment I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was in that instance I knew you were the one I’d be clamoring for until I had a chance to just talk to you. You exuded the kind of beautiful you weren’t even shooting for. You were so genuine in your movements. Although you were putting on a show, you weren’t putting on a show. And I could tell. That’s where you got me. That’s where I stayed.
When you finished your set, I had every intention to buy you a drink. Whether you already had one or wanted one, I was going to get you a drink. But one of my friends took one too many tequila shots that mixed poorly with her whiskey somethings. I swear it was not two minutes after I only heard echoes of your voice that my friend made her way to ground. On her knees, in need, ready to go. I tried to catch your eye as I carried my drunkard out the door. You gave me a smile, a wink. I gave you a smile, a shrug.
That was the first time I saw you. I promise you that won’t be the last.
I haven’t written much lately. I have no desire to. I’ve always been quite hopeful when it comes to the whole love/relationship thing. Every once in a while, I’ll imagine a moment that I think is quite outstanding, and I’ll write about it. Currently, my mind and, quite possibly in that case, my heart, are simply uninterested in playing out ideals or even the not so ideals. I think I’ve exhausted my hopes a bit. I had hoped that thing called fate would have taken over. I guess I’m still waiting for it now just the same.
You hugged people with your hands in fists. I always wondered why. I never got around to asking.
I’ve been waiting for warmer weather to come around for a few reasons, the obvious being so that we can play outside. After months of being holed up, it’s nice to be out and about without bundling up. Don’t get me wrong. I loved snuggling and movie nights, homemade pizzas and sipping wine on the couch. But I can’t wait for campfires and stargazing on the beach, cookouts and sipping wine on the patio.
The first thing I was sure I wanted to do when the weather was cooperative was to take you out by the lake. You took your bike and I took my skateboard. I’m a sloppy biker to say the least. You didn’t know it, but I stuffed my backpack with my ukulele, a towel, and little picnic of cheeses, crackers, and wine. We set off to the lake and attempted to hold hands on the trail. I nearly crashed into you at one point. I kinda wish someone was there to take our picture for that. We found a nice spot and I whipped out the goods. I have no idea what you thought I was carrying around, but I sure did surprise you. I sang you all of the 5 songs I learned on the ukulele, 2 of which you joined in on.
It was so simple and so perfect, you know. I could tell straight away that if the rest of summer was going to be like that, warm weather smiles and adventures…we’re moving to Hawaii.
I thought I saw you in the wrinkle of my sheets. My bed a little messy, you left a little messy.
I thought I tasted you in my morning coffee. On the rim of my mug, your lip on my mug.
I thought I felt you in my blue sweater. I felt your arms in my sleeves, you wrapped around me in my sleeves.
I thought I heard you in that song you used to sing to me. It screamed from my stereo, your voice was my stereo.
I thought I dreamt you up one day. I lost you in made up memories, maybe you were mostly made up memories.
Asked by demanda666
Hey! Thanks so much for the awesome message. That’s a lot to read! I’m glad you enjoyed my posts, but please credit them. They’re very personal in many ways. I do appreciate it.
The fog is settling in now. Your face is slowly fading away. And your arms, your beautiful arms…I can’t see them anymore. I strain to see your knees, your knobby and scarred knees. Your perfections and imperfections…all the same are just lost now.
Try as I might, I can’t hold onto you anymore. Because I ran and you stayed still. You let the fog take over, and you were all right with it. I screamed your name. You just stood there, staring. But I couldn’t stay. We weren’t meant to stay. But maybe you were meant to fade away.
Beginnings are my favorite for many reasons. I enjoy the not knowing with the need to ask. I’m fond of listening to stories and explanations, whispered moments to laughter in tears. I like your pairing questions and curious stares. And although I don’t consider myself interesting, to you I am intriguing.
“Do you have a hidden talent?” “What’s your favorite color?” “What’s your weakness?” “How was your last relationship?” “Do you guys still talk?” “What’s your greatest fear?” “Do you have siblings?” “Tell me a time you were happiest.”
A series of questions that led to more questions. And although I don’t consider myself interesting, I am intrigued by you. So, I babbled the first things off the top of my head. And you answered me.
“I can read people pretty well. I know when someone’s sad even if they’re putting it on. I kinda wish I couldn’t at times. It makes me sad.” “Blue” ” “Cookies. Chocolate chip to be exact.” “Long story short, it didn’t end well.” “No. I kinda got the hint that I should stop trying.” “I’m afraid to die before my future spouse. I’ve had heartache before. But I’ve never been broken.” “I have a little brother. He looks up to me, and I think he’s just the greatest.” “Does right now count?”
Beginnings are my favorite for many reasons…
Like a magical power, or maybe just a sixth sense, I know when you reach for me. While walking down the street, you stop at a window, and I know you reach for me. In the middle of the night, when you turn off your side, I know you reach for me. In it’s simplicity, it’s only your hand looking for mine. Your wandering hand seeks safety in mine. And my lonely hand gets a red alert knowing when you reach for me.
