I was breathless each time I saw you. Breathless for so long my mother would’ve worried, but why fret when you know it is love? It wasn’t simply your beauty, though the unaffected way you embodied it was enough in itself. It was also the aura, or the impression, you radiated: that you are open to people, open to connections. I am not, by nature, a particularly open person, and I am very reserved, but that night I felt compelled to approach you. Not that I didn’t fear that my awkwardness might betray me, but something about you made me feel it would be okay. And I was right, of course. We talked between long glances that bordered on stares, essentially forgetting about the people we came with, and I knew then I had to see you as much as I could.
As talking and looking progressed into physical connections, I knew this was what I imagined love to be. The wash of lust, connectedness and anticipation tangled up with a need for more. I still keep the image of the sunlight gleaming off your eyes as we lay naked in your bed stored away as the peak of my youth. Probably the best moment in my life. The emotional confirmation of our deep feelings and the rush of physical excitement, followed up with the warm sensation I know now as true satisfaction was transcendent.
I feel like maybe I didn’t deserve it, but even after all these years I have to tell you that the love remains. I just wish you were still here.
© 2022 Jeff E. Brown. All rights reserved.