She gave me butterflies. Her name said aloud by anyone provided me a smile. Physically she was gorgeous. Out of this world. Her eyes were a deep brown, her face had scattered freckles on her caramel colored skin and her smile…my god her smile made me melt. It was a passive happiness, almost as if she were afraid to allow it. I asked her if we could cuddle because I wanted to protect her from any harm this crazy world could throw upon her. She shared personal facts about her life which insinuated that she trusted me. This trust proved she was comfortable with me. This gave me comfort because that is all I wanted from her. I wanted to make her happy, I wanted to make things easier for her. Her struggles were silently surrounding us like the elephant in the room and the walls she used to keep difficulties at a distance, flickered like a garage door moving up and down, confusing me. I could have easily fallen in love with this woman. I could have stared in her eyes for hours because it felt safe to me.
Her eyes. Her eyes are what she uses to read her novels and she has shelves and shelves of books. Her eyes are what she uses to see herself in the mirror and to view stacks of pictures of herself that she keeps in a cardboard box to the left of her bed. Her eyes are what she uses to view everyone in her life that she loves. Her eyes are the window to her extremely delicate soul. I wanted her to be able to see how I saw her. I wanted to show her who she was from my eyes. Such a confident lady she has a high sense of fashion and knows what outfits complimented her curvy figure. So confident but drowning in so much pain. Her depression affecting everyone close to her, slowly made me realize how it was normal for her to resist anyone else desiring to be let in.
She kept saying how nice I was and kind and how my interest in her was intense. My interest was off-putting. When she danced with me she flirted. She ran her hands across my chest and danced up on me. When I left to get another drink she was anxious and thought I had disappeared. She noticed my absence. She told me to pull up my pants and attempted to touch them, I grabbed her fingers as I walked out in front of her and as they laced for that moment, I felt the need for nothing else. I was a sailor whose captain just delivered the closing command for me to fall “at ease.” Nothing had ever felt so right.
She told me she listened to country when she wrote in her blog. She asked on a one to ten scale what I rated her. I told her she was a ten. She insisted that I said that because I wanted to sleep with her. I told her I did not need to sleep with her. I told her I would wait for her. I told her I had no intentions of changing her or fixing her. I just wanted to be present. I wanted to be a part of her life. She told me I would forget her and I would move on. She told me she needed space.
I did not have a chance to tell her, that she will always have a space in my heart.