Love.
I can't say if it was immediate attraction in a sexual manner or even an emotional level, but I could feel him through the crowd of people like I can feel water on my skin when it rains. His presence was powerful and attention-grabbing even from my position across the room. If I walked through the crowd of businessmen and women, I knew I would have seen him sitting at the bar with a shot glass cradled in his hand, the smooth surface sliding on calloused fingertips that have felt so soft against my chapped lips.
I could describe the exact places his beautiful mass of hair lands as it falls across his slightly child-like cheeks with their immature puffiness, his youth made clear by the delicately unique lines of his face; from the corners of his mouth up to the crinkles around his eyes, every part of him is intricately played out to make him who he is. Even looking at him from a distance, I instantly thought he wouldn't notice me amongst the hundreds of mingling people in the ballroom, but I was proven wrong when his head turned and his eyes stopped suddenly, cast in my direction. I remember in detail how my heart slammed against my chest as he watched me watching him.
That soft hand lifted the shot glass and I fell in love with a silent toast and a smile.
Looking back, I feel silly when I remember myself actually doing the comical turn around bit you see in the movies. I could almost feel his laughter against my neck as he observed my actions, finally allowing one finger to point directly at my chest.
"Yes, you."
He mouthed the words silently, his soft smile curving into a grin that still stops my heart when I see it.
My nerves were shot as he stood and I got to see him in all his beauty. Dressed to kill, he was probably the most stunning person I had seen mixing with the gowns and tuxes ranging in the thousands. He wore what everyone else did, but he stood out because it fit him like a glove. A perfect fit you can only get from a really good tailor.
Up-close, he looked like he was a movie star, and I wasn't completely sure at the time that he wasn't. In a crowd of authors, musicians, and politicians, I never would have held it against anyone to invite such a lovely person no matter who they were. This young man could be a dog-walker, and If I was in charge of the invitation list, for one night this dog-walker would be living in style with the fortunate.
His voice was a dream, smooth and full of vibrant emotion, as he calmly told me I had been staring and that wasn't nice. I apologized to him quickly, not missing the sudden quirk of his lips or the brief humorous sparkle in his soul-gazing eyes. And we fell in silence.
We studied each other; me like an avid fan, him like a wolf ready for dinner, but something happened between us.
Something told us that we needed to draw this out or else we may miss the oppurtunity of the lifetime. I, for one, wasn't about to let that oppurtunity pass, even though I didn't know what it was I would let go. He was the first to break the soothing silence, his rich voice inviting me over to the bar for a drink.
I declined and he looked shocked and somewhat crestfallen as the words sunk in. It must have happened to him before because he straightened out quickly and gave me this really funny, normal look that I would expect to see on anyone. It was his turn to apologize, but I interrupted him mid-way.
It's too expensive and not nearly enough booze for the cost.
The shine came back to his eyes quickly as he let his body relax, shooting me a crooked grin before he agreed whole-heartedly.
We shared our first mutual smile.
So... he said, smile settling into a smirk.
So... I said.
Our first nervous laugh.
Maybe we should have planned the conversation out before we met up, he said.
We shared our first genuine laugh.
How about this? I said. Let's leave each other alone for now... and you can call me up so we can go have a drink.
And your number?
On the card.
I put the card in his hand, winking slightly before slowly brushing through the crowd again. I saw his nose scrunch up in mock-contempt as he watched me disappear, his laughter weaving through the people when I finally did get out of his line of vision. The rest of the night, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him as he took his claim at the bar again.
When it came time to leave the party, I didn't see him as he left.
Four hours after I had gotten home, he called.
Our first phone conversation.
We laughed and spoke to each other like best friends rather than the strangers we both knew we were.
And two days later, we met.
Enjoyed a couple of cheap shots at a bar that we both knew of well enough to manage to get there in one piece.
And one day later, we met.
Drinking coffee while discussing the party.
And one day later, we met.
Eating breakfast at his place, laughing over English muffins until we both felt like we would die from asphyxiation.
And two weeks later, we kissed.
Soaking wet and cold from the weather, standing pressed against each other for warmth underneath the safety of my porch.
When I first met him, I thought he was fascinating and worth the trouble to get to know and maybe become his friend one day.
When I spent time with him, I seriously felt like he had hung the moon.
When I love him, I feel like nothing else matters but the two of us.
To be in love.
Such a wonderful experience.
I can't say if it was immediate attraction in a sexual manner or even an emotional level, but I could feel him through the crowd of people like I can feel water on my skin when it rains. His presence was powerful and attention-grabbing even from my position across the room. If I walked through the crowd of businessmen and women, I knew I would have seen him sitting at the bar with a shot glass cradled in his hand, the smooth surface sliding on calloused fingertips that have felt so soft against my chapped lips.
I could describe the exact places his beautiful mass of hair lands as it falls across his slightly child-like cheeks with their immature puffiness, his youth made clear by the delicately unique lines of his face; from the corners of his mouth up to the crinkles around his eyes, every part of him is intricately played out to make him who he is. Even looking at him from a distance, I instantly thought he wouldn't notice me amongst the hundreds of mingling people in the ballroom, but I was proven wrong when his head turned and his eyes stopped suddenly, cast in my direction. I remember in detail how my heart slammed against my chest as he watched me watching him.
That soft hand lifted the shot glass and I fell in love with a silent toast and a smile.
Looking back, I feel silly when I remember myself actually doing the comical turn around bit you see in the movies. I could almost feel his laughter against my neck as he observed my actions, finally allowing one finger to point directly at my chest.
"Yes, you."
He mouthed the words silently, his soft smile curving into a grin that still stops my heart when I see it.
My nerves were shot as he stood and I got to see him in all his beauty. Dressed to kill, he was probably the most stunning person I had seen mixing with the gowns and tuxes ranging in the thousands. He wore what everyone else did, but he stood out because it fit him like a glove. A perfect fit you can only get from a really good tailor.
Up-close, he looked like he was a movie star, and I wasn't completely sure at the time that he wasn't. In a crowd of authors, musicians, and politicians, I never would have held it against anyone to invite such a lovely person no matter who they were. This young man could be a dog-walker, and If I was in charge of the invitation list, for one night this dog-walker would be living in style with the fortunate.
His voice was a dream, smooth and full of vibrant emotion, as he calmly told me I had been staring and that wasn't nice. I apologized to him quickly, not missing the sudden quirk of his lips or the brief humorous sparkle in his soul-gazing eyes. And we fell in silence.
We studied each other; me like an avid fan, him like a wolf ready for dinner, but something happened between us.
Something told us that we needed to draw this out or else we may miss the oppurtunity of the lifetime. I, for one, wasn't about to let that oppurtunity pass, even though I didn't know what it was I would let go. He was the first to break the soothing silence, his rich voice inviting me over to the bar for a drink.
I declined and he looked shocked and somewhat crestfallen as the words sunk in. It must have happened to him before because he straightened out quickly and gave me this really funny, normal look that I would expect to see on anyone. It was his turn to apologize, but I interrupted him mid-way.
It's too expensive and not nearly enough booze for the cost.
The shine came back to his eyes quickly as he let his body relax, shooting me a crooked grin before he agreed whole-heartedly.
We shared our first mutual smile.
So... he said, smile settling into a smirk.
So... I said.
Our first nervous laugh.
Maybe we should have planned the conversation out before we met up, he said.
We shared our first genuine laugh.
How about this? I said. Let's leave each other alone for now... and you can call me up so we can go have a drink.
And your number?
On the card.
I put the card in his hand, winking slightly before slowly brushing through the crowd again. I saw his nose scrunch up in mock-contempt as he watched me disappear, his laughter weaving through the people when I finally did get out of his line of vision. The rest of the night, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him as he took his claim at the bar again.
When it came time to leave the party, I didn't see him as he left.
Four hours after I had gotten home, he called.
Our first phone conversation.
We laughed and spoke to each other like best friends rather than the strangers we both knew we were.
And two days later, we met.
Enjoyed a couple of cheap shots at a bar that we both knew of well enough to manage to get there in one piece.
And one day later, we met.
Drinking coffee while discussing the party.
And one day later, we met.
Eating breakfast at his place, laughing over English muffins until we both felt like we would die from asphyxiation.
And two weeks later, we kissed.
Soaking wet and cold from the weather, standing pressed against each other for warmth underneath the safety of my porch.
When I first met him, I thought he was fascinating and worth the trouble to get to know and maybe become his friend one day.
When I spent time with him, I seriously felt like he had hung the moon.
When I love him, I feel like nothing else matters but the two of us.
To be in love.
Such a wonderful experience.