Day 1
It’s often a cliché to suggest that you find what you need at the most unexpected of times. The story of us, of me and you, is a story of happenstance – of randomness and chance, of surprises and gleefully cheerful quantum mechanisms playing their little games with the cosmos.
There you were, resplendent in a beautiful black dress and a killer smile.
The echoes of the season’s festivities became distant as you glided through the throng of noise and colour. I remember the slight tilt of the head, the easy brush of that cheeky grin. The approach was tentative. The greeting was tinged with nervousness and hesitation. The first few words were clumsy, articulated with the collective grace of a herd of buffalo in an antiques store.
But how wrong I was to allow such trepidation to conquer me at all! All was forgiven as we fell into step and figured out that there was absolutely nothing we needed to worry about. We were going to get along fine. This was nice. Perhaps this would be the start of a beautiful friendship that would last eons.
Which made what happened next even more puzzling. I don’t know how I found the courage to do what I did. But somehow I found it in me.
“…Just be my date tonight, okay?”
“Sure! Why not?”
Ah crap.
Day 2
Now? Now, my cosmos is you, and I find myself woefully unprepared for the depths to which the connection we have formed has so quickly found a home in the orbiting miasma of memories, feelings and principles that form the very core of my being.
To be the queen of a collective is a special privilege. But to be the queen of someone’s heart?
That’s everything.
The slinky black number had disappeared, replaced by the elegant simplicity of white lace. Oh how you glowed and dazzled, as though the sincerity that came so naturally to you had a life of its own. I needed to find an excuse to spend time alone with you. I didn’t really care where else you had to be after you had paid a visit once again to my humble abode.
All I cared about was wringing every single last second that I had with you into existence. What can happen, would happen. If it worked for Murphy’s Law, then it would work for us. What’s this about having to go to another place? I’m on it!
“I’ll send you…”
“Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”
“If it was, I wouldn’t have offered.”
To say that I felt giddy would have been a complete understatement. We bundled ourselves into the car and made our merry way to the house of someone I, honestly, did not care to know. All I knew was that here I was, with you. I remember catching a glimpse of your smile as I made a lame joke.
How utterly bewitching.
Who cares what happened the rest of the night? The only thing of note was that you were not there. How could anything else compare to having you so close, your scent a wondrous memory that no one else could possibly compete with?
I think at this point I realised I was in trouble.
Day 3
You are a work of art that needs no canvas. A sonnet writ large in life. A symphony of such staggering beauty that it is nigh-on impossible to find the words befitting of such majesty.
A tear rolled down my cheek. The credits rolled as I struggled to process the cinematic masterpiece that I had just witnessed.
She turned playfully towards me when she heard the sniffles. A manic grin spread across her face as she realised what was happening. A warm hand reached out and gently wiped the tear from my face.
“Don’t cry,” she said softly. “There’s no need to cry. It’s just a movie.” She knew damn well that it wasn’t just a movie. Her head leaned in close and buried itself into my chest. I pulled her closer and smelled the lush richness of her hair. It was intoxicating. Exhilarating.
Enchanting.
I knew that I was starting to fall. It set off all sorts of warning klaxons and alarm bells. But I didn’t care at that moment in time. I was happy. She was happy.
Wasn’t that all that mattered?
Day 4
I know that I am worthy of you, for I know that I have gifts of my own to offer. That does not stop the momentary bouts of self doubt, nor the sneaking suspicion that one day these gifts will not be enough for you. But soldier on I shall, to earn the right to your affections. To earn the privilege of your companionship.
“The beach? A sunset? Sure, why not?”
The drive to the sandy retreats of the beach was lively, loud and completely captivating. From the rather silly error of assuming we could get alcohol in a muslim neighbourhood supermarket to screaming song lyrics at the top of our lungs, there was not a single quiet moment to be had as we undertook this most random of journeys.
The air was crisp as a stormfront moved in from the southwest. The sun was on a lazy arc, beating a slow retreat to the horizon as the wind steadily grew in intensity. You sat next to me, beer in one hand, my fingers in the other. I heard the stories of a dickish father and an overprotective mother. Of a wish to make the most of life away from the confines of this sleepy little hometown of ours. Of hopes and dreams and everything in between.
The concrete blocks we had parked ourselves on made steps down to a mini-walkway fronting the beach. They formed an artificial barrier should the tide come up way too high – a rather more common occurrence these days as climate change truly began to bite. But all barriers fail if the storm is too powerful. All walls fall when the foundation that they sit on begins to erode.
The barrier that was supposed to protect me from the charms of this fantastically beautiful creature was slowly reducing itself into a pile of useless rubble. Entropy would claim another victim as I succumbed ever more to your charms. I was stupefied into a blubbering mess of lame humour and trite anecdotes, trying to keep my head above water as the simple joy of being near you threatened to drown me.
My fate was sealed as the winds howled their sorrow-filled song, and the heavens opened up. We gathered up the last of our snacks and beer and headed back to the car. As we settled in for the long drive back to the city, accompanied with the soundtrack of a tropical storm, you seized my phone from my hands and pulled up Spotify. The choice of song struck me with its mesmerising arrangement of melodic genius, bringing me closer into touch with a feeling I had grown oh-so-unfamiliar with in these preceding months.
Love. Yes, that’s what it was. The feeling of love, and being loved.
I had found my gold dust. I had truly found you.
Day 5
To earn the unwavering and stunning embrace of your love.
It was the wee hours of the morning as we drove back from another night out on the town, buzzing with glee and infested with the holiday spirit.
We chatted our usual small talk, the comforting feel of her hand wrapped around mine a suitably agreeable state of affairs. Night slowly gave way to the day. I parked the car in front of her home, leaving the engine on idle as the air-conditioner made whirring noises and presumably kept us from becoming toast in the growing light.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Any night with you, like that, would be fun.”
“I’m glad your friends liked me.”
“Of course they were going to like you! Stop being silly…”
The banter went back and forth as the sun grew brighter and higher in the sky. Our eyes grew heavy, but our hands held on tight, refusing to give in to the tiredness that seeped into our bones. Neither of us wanted to leave. Neither of us wanted the night to end, even though the morning had already begun.
A moment passed.
I cradled her face in my hand, my fingers gently lifting up her chin as I gazed into her eyes. She looked up, the tiredness of moments before temporarily suspended as I pulled myself closer to her. I knew that I wasn’t exactly a sight for sore eyes after a night out on the town. But I didn’t care.
The meeting of lips was gentle, the subtle caresses of motion belying what was an utter maelstrom of passion and yearning. I needed this. She needed this. There was no point hiding it at all, anymore. Our lips stayed locked together, the rhythmic movement of the tangible and intangible blending together in a soaring snapshot of what was, is, and could possibly be.
This was us. This was the start. This was the beginning of what could be something truly special.
May the odds ever be in our favour.
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