All That He Knows

    They are separated only by feet. His eyes are on her, absorbing her, taking in every detail with bitter-sweet sadness. She is oblivious to him. He enjoys these moments, as he watches her. He suddenly feels as if he is home again, the way he felt when they were together. It was momentary but splendid, like a sudden bolt of lightening, briefly illuminating his surroundings. Now all that remains of that moment of illumination is a shattering sonic sound which rumbles and shakes all as its waves swim by, leaving only disruption and loss in its wake.
    She is alerted to his presence by a friend, she cautiously turns her head and for a split second their eyes meet before she sharply darts her head forwards and towards the ground. Grasping her companions’ arms, she ushers them hurriedly away. His eyes do not falter. They are glued to her. On his face is an expression of utter longing. He loves every piece of her, every eyelash, every pore. He loves her hair – each strand of it, and the way it dances across her flawless breasts. He adores her hands. They appear to him as beautiful creatures. He can lose himself in her cuticles, in her perfect fingertips.
    He longs for her now as he always has. Even when she was in his arms, when her body was pressed against his, he needed to be closer to her. He would show up at her door in the middle of the night, desperate for her, and he was glad to watch her sleeping beside him as he traced his fingertips lightly across her back. He was always in contact with her. He always had her touch to comfort him, and now he grasps for her wildly with his eyes. It had ended so unexpectedly, so uncontrollably, and a fire still burns within him. He wants her, he needs her, he depends upon her, and she won’t look at him.
    He has given up all hope, and his heart lies deflated and defeated in his hollow chest. He feels a gentle hand take his shoulder. It’s her, standing beside him, smiling up at him in a friendly manner. She is touching him, she is looking at him! In that instant, they understand, and they forgive. By her side, he looks like an entirely different person. His eyes embrace the light and reflect it as it bounces off various surfaces. They talk, and it is as if nothing ever went wrong between them. He is filled with elation and hope again and he believes, as never before, that his life is brilliant. He is captivated by her. Every so often, someone will take him by the arm and lead him away from her, loudly reciting excited salutations. He is deaf to all of them and quickly shakes them off and returns to her side diligently.  One pestering girl pulls him eagerly into a dense crowd, where she takes him by the waist and moves her hips back and forth, grinding into him. Not wanting to be rude, he goes along with her, sort of bouncing around reluctantly, upper body turned towards his past lover. He casts a rather helpless, pleading look towards her and sees on her face an expression of confused hurt.
Later, they bid farewell and arrange to see each other soon, and for an instant, before she says goodbye, he feels as though he loves her more than life itself.

    Days pass before they see each other again, and when they do, her arrival is unexpected. He finds her in the crowd and makes his way over to her, puts his hand in its place in the small of her back. He laughs with genuine appreciation now that he finds himself with her again. She is the center of his attention. His body is turned towards hers, his arm rests, slightly outstretched, subconsciously reaching for her. She invades his senses; her scent is a distracting undercurrent.
    They are upstairs, alone, reminded of the nearby crowd only by the constant thudding, semi-distant sound made by the bass. He embraces her tightly and he tries to put his heart into hers for safe keeping, in case he loses it again. She wears sparkles on her face, and they are transferred to his as he holds her in his arms, and he sees only her, and he hears only her, and he feels only her, and he knows only her.

The End

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