That's What I'm Talking About

A true story about attraction and love

Hearing a new voice, I glance up.  'Now that's what I'm talkin about!' I think to myself, and find amusement in my lonely thoughts.  On introduction, it's a shake of the hand, a nice to meet you, an immediate forgetting of his name.  The doors are opened, and all are shuffled, mixed; laughing and joking and situating in the small space.  I hide behind a door, sitting seemingly unnoticed on the floor, content to be left alone.  But no, someone is talking to me, trying to get my attention, perhaps to bring me out of myself.  It's him, he offers me his chair.  I refuse, once, twice, getting a little haughty as I refuse a third time.  Finally he relents and focuses elsewhere, not knowing that I was impressed by the simple act of chivalry.  Conversation, questions, and kindness (among other things) begin to make me loosen-up.  I participate, I state my opinions, I show my innocence, I flirt.  He is there, off and on, noticing, laughing, watching.  The dance has begun, unknowing to either of us.


A new surrounding, a scary place.  An offered hand, a shouted conversation, revealing thoughts later seeming stupid.  Suddenly a dream comes true, and I decide to take a chance.  One night of laughter and discovery and exploring a different world and a different set of actions.  I am spinning, dancing piroet's to every song.


Spontaneous smiles, denial of a later truth.  Long conversations and expenses on too much texting.  Bonding, unfortunate events, long-awaited-for first kisses, and lots of gas money.  Restlessness makes me pace with my phone in hand, waiting for his call.  Waiting, longing for another free weekend, another chance to get to know him just that much more.


Pride, humility, fears, and dreams.  Everything is a distraction, and every comment and conversation has a deeper meaning.  I am falling in love with him, but I will not admit it to myself.  I say I am only playing a game, I am only dating to date, and I will not fall for the next guy who pays me attention.  But underneath, I know that I am fooling myself.  In truth I am analyzing every thought he shares and every story he tells, questioning his character in every situation, and imagining how that part of him will be in ten and twenty years.  I imagine how he will use his skills, emotions, and character when he deals with children and other such grown-up things.  I am watching closely, not knowing that exactly how close I am getting.


One day I enter that feared "L" word into the picture, outloud and expecting a positive response.  It is an admission, and partly an offering of comfort.  I want him to be able to count on me and my emotions, and I want him to know just how much I am expecting from our sporadic meetings.  The response is mutual, but I already knew this.  Call it conceipt, call it women's intuition, call it whatever you want, but I knew he would love me back, and that it was safe to really be in love with him, and to never have to pretend affections with anyone in the world.


It is sharing thoughts and ideas.  It is knowing facial expressions and the set of my shoulders.  It is being able to communicate through tears, and talk about what is really wrong.  It's swallowing pride, enjoying your presense, and never wanting to let go.  It's about loving each other for who we are, knowing that changes will come and problems will arise.  It's letting each other do what is best for our lives, untill the day when every decision will be made for the two of us as one entity.


Every day brings a smile when I think of him, and knowing that I do the same for him is more of a blessing than I can say.  I have found the love of my life, even if it seems I have known him for a short time.  I will continue to watch him, to analyze his character, because that's what I do.  Because that's how I understand him, and that's how I will know him even better as I continue in my life.  In our lives.

The End

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