Tuesday, December 6, 2016

on thunderbolts through the heart

It creeps up on you when you least expect it. You think you’re not ready. You think it’s too soon. But from deep down inside, you begin to hear love as it takes its first steps.

Step 1. You meet and it’s wonderful. There’s music and laughter and conversations that never end. He spends the night and you talk till morning. You talk till your voice croaks. You talk till there’s no talk left. You talk until neither of you can keep your eyes open. And then you talk a little more.

Step 2. He leaves in the morning and you realize you’ve gone insane again. You pick up his shirt from the hamper and you inhale deeply. It smells like sweat marinated in tobacco smoke and pheromones. Your feet begin to tap seconds, minutes, hours till you’re with him again.

Step 3. You sit uncomfortably throughout dinner. You watch as his eyes light up when he tells you a story. You watch his lips move and skew as he talks, all the while wondering what it would be like to kiss him again. He stops talking and you’re like oh shit. Did he ask a question? You’re lost in a daydream again. You nod and say something non-committal. Yeah. That sounds fun. And he continues talking, pleased with your response. Phew. You live to daydream another day.

Step 4. You are in a meeting and you tune out. You play a game where you try to remember what he looks like. You remember the patterns on his tattoos, his scraggly beard, the stray hairs scattered on his chest. You remember how his arms feel as you cuddle when you sleep. The meeting ends and you continue your work day. You’re hopeless. You’re not even pretending to work. You stalk his Instagram. You scroll all the way back to three years ago. You accidentally hit Love. You don’t take it back.

Step 5. You come home. You stare at his towel and his toothbrush. You make the bed and wash the dishes. You wait for him to find you. He takes longer than usual. You go back to the hamper. You smell his shirt. His scent is mostly gone but it lingers in your nostrils and in your memories. You hear a knocking on the door. You fly down the stairs to meet him. You catch your breath and pat down your hair. You open the door casually, feigning sleep with a yawn. Did you miss me, he asks. And you say, meh a little. All the while, you stare eager at the way his lips move and skew as he talks, that annoyingly adorable scraggly little beard, and that shirt which you know will smell like him for at least a full day.

‘Cause this is how things start
A thunderbolt through the heart
When we do what we do
I want to whisper to you
When the whole word shouts
Find the things that you’re about

It won’t be hard
If you would like to start

♫: Reese Lansangan | Exploration No. 5 (2015)