I remember it so clearly it was almost like a dream. It was like life had a filter and “fade” had been added to everything I was living and seeing and feeling.
I was nervous to see you. Excited, because I couldn’t wait to sleep next to you. I paced in my bedroom, waiting for the exact moment to depart to meet you. For the umpteenth time I checked my outfit in the mirror before finally turning off the light in my little apartment to walk and meet you on West 14th and 6th Ave.
It was your favorite neighborhood bar, you had told me. The chandeliers and the yellow lighting kissed your face and your summer tan. Your knee touched mine and the magnetic force made it so I couldn’t move it away. We laughed so much, and I finally gave you the Dove chocolate foil that encased the quote that made me think of you when I had eaten it and saved it weeks before.
When we left the bar you kissed me. Right there, in the street, you pulled me close with some sort of hunger and I felt you wanting me – and I wanted you, too. Your hands cupped my face and my knees buckled and shook as I felt myself fall into your arms. Your hand wrapped in mine we walked the whole two blocks home.
The “fade” came back when I touched your skin and I lost myself with you. I felt every worry, fear, and previous hurt disappear and replace itself with you, here in front of me, real time, and then it happened. I felt it. I loved you.
You laid there, with your “baby bird” hair flopping in all directions, and the warmth of your body in the humid August heat didn’t bother me. I pulled you close and I took it all in. I thought I would forget that moment and what it felt like but no, it still passes through me all these months later as though it were last night.
I felt safe with you. I wanted you and you wanted me. Things were so normal and right and vulnerable in all the best of ways. For once, I wasn’t thinking were we might go or who we might be, and I was with you in that moment. Nothing else mattered. We fell asleep entangled in each other and I woke up realizing it wasn’t a dream. It was real. You were real. And I never wanted to let you go.