I always wrote off your eyes. From stolen sideways glances across the room I saw them as plain dark brown, almost black, an outlier in the realm of the rest of your irresistible features.
But then we talked; our first real conversation in years. Words slid easily through by mouth, a sharp contrast from my usual reserved self. I couldn't tell if I couldn't stop smiling because you were, or vise versa.
That night, when I closed my eyes, all I could think about was yours. Up close they aren't black at all, they glow golden brown. And when you look at me, your stare holds and I wonder what you think of my eyes.
It’s sad when you meet the right person—someone you can have great conversations with, someone who makes you laugh hysterically and brings out the best in you—but the timing isn’t right itself.
So, the semester ended today. We won't see each other for a month over break. We all went out to a club to celebrate our last day and we were dancing. There were so many girls surrounding you, trying to dance with you, flirting with you, trying to get your attention even just for five minutes. I have never been one to compete, so I thought, "this is probably right. This is probably less complicated and sweeter and gentler and will make you happier," so I stood back. I ignored you most of the night, but at the end, it was my ear you chose. You whispered that you were leaving, and I said "yeah, me too, soon." Then I told our friend we were going, and you whispered "hurry" in my ear. We wrapped up, and people followed us. And you practically raced me out the door, just trying to get a few minutes of us alone. I could feel you rushing me. And then they were there, and you walked way out of your way, in the direction of my house, trying to ditch everyone else, but they just walked with us, between us, and I just smiled, because I knew how hard you'd worked to attempt to say good bye. Just to me. Just in the quiet of the snow falling. Just you and me. We might not have gotten it, but I never would have known it meant something to you if you hadn't worked so hard to try to get those couple of seconds.
I work at a tea store. A damn attractive man walked in not so long ago. I'm not talking love at first sight or even lust, I'm talking magnetism. The way he carried himself, the way he was dressed, the way his low voice floated in the air, the casual power in his jawline, the easy beauty in the swoop of his almost styled hair, the absolute oceans he had for eyes. He came in twice that week, and a pinch of curiosity began wrapping itself around my spine.
I went on Tinder. Within ten minutes, I found him. I swiped. Instant match.
He went from fascinating mystery man to befuddling boyfriend in the matter of weeks and I love him. I don't quite know how, but I do. He is the most obscure and subtle human I've met, and each day that passes in his arms I feel even closer and farther from him than the last and I don't know how that can be, but it is.
I never expected you. But I'm grateful. And I'm so pleased that I had the courage to go looking for you.
to the girl who has never been kissed
listen. i know you because i was you. 16, 17, 18, 19 passed. no boyfriend, never been kissed, barely held hands.
there is nothing wrong with you.
you are not unlovable, or messed up, or "behind"
keep on living. enjoy the way the sun comes through the window in the morning. enjoy your cup of tea before breakfast, the adventures you have with yourself, your big comfy bed to yourself.
one of these days he'll come along. he'll show up when you least expect it, and sweep you off your feet. and that kiss, that first moment, will be perfect. and the wait will fade away. and none of that other stuff will matter anymore.
I still can't believe he asked me out. He was so nervous, and he was stuttering. He has always been so confident, so to have him be nervous was new. He said in amazement, "I'm messing this up and I haven't even started yet." I had to cover my mouth I was grinning so widely at the cuteness. Then he started to tell me how he thought I was a great girl, with frequent stops to clear his throat, and how my personality was amazing, just amazing. He told me it was rare to find someone like me. And then he asked if sometime, whenever I was free, it could be after exams or whenever, if I wanted to go get some coffee.
And of course, I said I would love to.
Today in my college's library, a young man was raving about a girl he brought home to his parents to a friend of his. I was sitting next to them, and even with headphones in heard every word. He was almost speechless with how amazing she was, saying with admiration that she respected herself and respected her body so much. It was so sweet. I hope one day a boy talks about me like that.
Sometimes, I miss the feeling of having a crush. I do.
I miss the feeling lit up by simply watching someone walk through the door, or better yet, having them hold it and feeling them watch me walk through.
I miss the wondering. Will they? Won't they? What does it mean? The wondering always ruined me.
I miss how such tiny little gestures and conversations could give me such a high.
I miss picturing what I would like next to them...what he would wear to go see the Nutcracker with me and whether or not I could wear heels and still not be taller than him.
I miss discovering new things about them. Like finding out that he used to play french horn in high school, or that they despise artichokes with a passion. Which would be good because then I could eat them.
Sometimes, I miss the feeling of having a crush. Maybe I'll cross by one again soon.