Sunday, January 26, 2014

I Fell In Love With Him a Little Bit That Night.

I fell in love with him a little bit that night.  It was cooling down, but not so fast.  It was breezy, but not windy.  We were the only people sitting outside.  I could hear the traffic, I watched people walking down the street.  The wine was expensive and tasted good.  And he was sweet.  And he was funny.  And I fell in love with him a little bit that night.  But then we moved to another bar after we finished our wine and our dessert and our jokes and tipped the waitress too much.  We clung to each other walking to that second bar.  He was tall enough that I fit under his arm.  He was soft and warm enough that it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward.  We walked and clung to each other. I kissed his neck quickly, a soft peck while we were waiting for the crosswalk.

Then we got to the second bar.  We wanted to sit at the bar but it was full.  We sat outside.  But the wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped lower and the drinks were unfamiliar and expensive and the music was jarring and our conversation fell flat.  It wasn't like the other bar.  It wasn't as magical.  The light was different.  It was dark.  The server was like a character out of a comic book.  There was a man to my left, eating alone, scrolling through an iPad.  I couldn't decide if I pitied him or envied him.

I had been given another one of my perfect moments.  I had been given a portion of happiness.  I tasted a sliver of happiness.  It's too bad it only lasted a few hours.  I fell in love with him a little bit that night.  But I'm smart enough now to know that it only lasted for that little bit, for that night, for that bottle of wine, for that walk when we clung to each other.

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