29 June 2011


It was last minute, sort of.
We had set up a hundred dates in the past (the handsome guy with a beard) but they were always cancelled last minute.  I suppose neither of us were in a good place.  Those days that you are heartbroken and you hope that someone will fix you, but you are in no way ready to offer anything back and you know better than to be that selfish. When sadness is a ghost looking for a body to inhabit and you wonder which of those things you are, ghost or flesh.  that was both of us, then.  (On top of all of that, I had reservations about him being only 24)
He had randomly texted that he was in my neighborhood with friends and that I should meet him out.  I explained I was in for the night after dinner with some friends, so he asked if I would stay awake for a good night kiss.  Not exactly original, but it was exactly what I wanted. 
I had made a mix of music for us to make out to months back, so I updated it with some new Beirut, Wye Oak, radiohead, etc. (music we both like), sprayed agar wood  in the air, and lit about 16 candles. (even booty calls deserve some dignity)
His lips were soft, and the contrast next to his short beard was thrilling. I held onto his face as we kissed. The chemistry was undeniable. I grabbed his forearms as he laid on top of me and I loved how thick they were.  His face burrowed into my neck as I felt the hair at the curve of his skull, so thick and soft.
happiness/desire/connection thick in the air.  He kept telling me "you're beautiful. you're so sexy"  (words that normally make me cringe, but this time, I felt grateful).  I had faith that our thoughts were in exactly the same place, playing in the exact same tone,  getting carried away in a moment we both knew would never sustain anything longer than this.  (I think most guys have that untamed spot in them that wants to be reckless, impulsive and playful and maybe that was the excitement we were feeling?). Besides, is there anything more fun that french kissing a cute guy with your shirt off?? 
The following weeks, he burned up my phone, asking for a date. I finally agreed to meet on Friday, although I knew it probably wasn't going to stick.  He never called to confirm or cancel and the day came and went.  A couple days later I received a text about his friend being in a car accident or something and would I like to set something up again.  I didn't reply anything more than "I'm sorry".
I bumped into him this weekend and i couldn't wait to hug him.  He whispered into my ear that I was handsome and sweet and I replied with those exact same words, squeezed his forearm and walked away with the sweetest thoughts swimming in my head. He means something to me, just not the something that makes me need more and that's ok.