The promise of something better

There is something so appealing about unfamiliar turf. I mean, of course, I’ve thought guys were cute before; and the truth is, I thought I was in love once… but I’d never go sprinting back for seconds. That is until the most recent romance blossomed. He decided to take a chance on me. 

Wasn’t long until we held hands, kissed, shared stories, and even some personal details about ourselves and our lives. I remember him pleating me into his arms, burrowing his face in my neck, and every hair standing on end. My heart quickstepped. He wanted to kiss me. That scared me. I was scared because my emotions were growing ever-so-rapidly.

Upon leaving, I kissed him like I might never see him again. Maybe that’s because always, in the back of my mind, I realize that’s a distinct possibility. The connection wasn’t just about the delicious electricity coursing through my veins. It was all about love. 

I couldn’t believe how much I missed him minutes after we separated. He was all I could think about. All day, the only clear picture was his face. The only sound I wanted to hear, his soft hello. Unrehearsed words tumbled out of my mouth frequently, but this isn’t anything new. He always says the right things. Maybe he should be a politician. I suspected he might be the right person the first night we met. He was so sure of himself, his beliefs. He didn’t let me sway him. I loved his self-confidence. His obvious loyalty.

The first time I kissed him, I felt like a bride on her wedding night. One kiss, I was totally hooked. I’d follow him across the Universe if I had to. We were connected by an invisible chain. It was very long, very light; but also very strong. It can’t rust. It can’t break. The only thing that could sever it would be if he stopped loving me. 

When it comes to dating, the beginners rules say to watch the other players, learn how they “tell.” In other words, read their body language. You can see what they’ve got in their eyes. Appearances can be deceptive. If I had tumbled for every handsome boy who looked my way, I shudder to think where I might be today! For once in my life, I thought I had won. 

The family even became involved. Rather than me having to confess to something this special, my mother saved me the trouble. She needed to know every detail about this new “boyfriend.” I suppose you could call him that. Once the cat had halfway escaped from the bag, she wanted to know all. “Come tell me more. Who is he? Is he cute? How old is he? Does he go to school?” She grills me all the way through, and I think I became happier every time his name crossed my lips.

I try to soak up these emotions. Sponge them up, absorb them through my skin, into my flesh, so they’ll always live inside of me. But nothing is static. If I’ve learned anything at all in twenty-one years, it’s that things change. What you feel bad about one day can turn around like that. Same goes for the things you care about. If love has no more meaning than that, I don’t want it now or ever again. Don’t want to hear the word or wear its scars. 

Heart bruised, eyes swollen almost shut from crying, no way can I live like this. Part of me doesn’t want to see him. I’m not much good at good-byes. But the bigger part wants to hold him.  I feel the need to see him. Right away. Even looking the way I do. 

I’m shaking. There are tears in my eyes. He likes me. I love him.  Would he decide to stay if I tried coercion instead of a simple plea? I wish we could begin a slow mutual exploration. As we learn together, the fears would fall away. Sheer exhilaration—like standing on the very edge of a cliff, with the wind of your face. We could go anywhere and go home richer than when we arrived. Couldn’t we? …Couldn’t we?

People come. People go. Although in Utah, people mostly stay; just not the right people. But worrying over it won’t help anyone. Especially not me.  I need to go with the flow. I need to not make waves, not buck the current. Trying to fly well below the radar has never been my strong suit.