Sometimes, someone new enters your life.  Dressed in uniforms of pungent individuality
with subtle shades of intrigue, he begins by greeting you in a language unheard
of before him.  And on cue, your silent
senses quiver in anticipation of marvelous happenings—before you know they
should not be.  With unpresumptuous
cunning, he laughs when you joke; smiles when you speak, hugs when you appear
and stares when you dance.  In his large
brown eyes are wonders that you feel are only for you to understand.  Slowly he becomes indispensable—late night
grins, buffet antics, political discussions, romantic dissections of past
lives—and you depend on him to be your distraction and delight.  Then tickles augment hugs, midnight football elicits fistfuls of giggles; a
comfortable understanding encompasses both of you, swirling about,

It’s true, isn’t it?  In between bouts of dismay, disbelief and
delight are your brain cells furiously spinning around the possibilities for
both of you—heart alit by nuanced maybes and soul exquisitely sensitive to
non-verbal cues.  Every facial feature is
highlighted and catalogued by your mind; in fact if your talents included
artistic renderings of humans, you would within seconds delineate the essence
of the man.  Friends wonder aloud as to
the nature of your dealings with him and in your weakened state you consult,
confer, and conversate at length about this bundle of nerves and muscles that
sets your heart racing.  It is evident
that your interest in him has long since piqued beyond friendship but that
interest can never amount to anything of romantic consequence so instead of
seeking more, you settle for less. 

take your time with him, talking with him. 
Enjoying moments of whimsy, music and chatter respun from the experiences
that make him, you know your heart must not be allowed to dictate the ending of
the story.  So with reluctance, your mind
vows to be rid of such confusion and stress—only to be aroused again by the
singing of his heart with yours.  How
innocently is he serenading you?  How
much of your love spills over into his life, seeking to fill and then return to
you?  You can never be quite sure.  Never. 
But for now you have him–his vulnerabilities when you are alone, his
sometimes caress when he can not bring himself to stay away (though he does not
know or acknowledge this) and the secrets that he keeps to himself. 


About papillion

Intense Often Moody Transparent Exquisitely sensitive Animated Never satisfied Curious Eternal Romantic Creative Devotedly Christian Encouraging Multi-layered Loving Quick Judge Critical Forever evolving View all posts by papillion

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