I have homework. I need to do work. But he is on my mind. His face won’t fade, his words echo, his touch lingers. I sound so sappy, or maybe I’m just poking fun at myself because I’m scared. Scared that I like him, that I trust him, that I might have found someone I’ve been searching for. I just need to write. That’s what I always do: use my words to to describe my feelings–reveal my feelings.
He called me beautiful. Several times. Many times. I don’t see it. He tells me I’m smart and talented and driven– all the traits that have come to question at one point or another. He also told me something about our first official date:
We were walking through the city, under the fog of warm light coming from the street lamps, through the cool grazes of pouring rain. We came to a stop, waiting for the walking sign to flash; a dark car brushes close to the curb–a resting puddle awakens to shower our dark figures. He continues to hold the black umbrella and reaches out with his other arm, as if to shield me from all the drops. “This is a movie moment,” I say between laughs. “Yeah, it is”, he responds. I’m not sure what he’s looking at, I’m too absorbed by the scenery. I tell him it reminds me of Singing in the Rain–the first movie we watched together. He remains quiet. Church bells sing in the distance, “Definitely a movie moment,” I restate with a smile. He watches me calmly, “Yes, it is”.
He told me last night, that he wanted to kiss me in that moment.
Now he knows I’ve never had a first kiss. My suitemates blurted out the confession, with the best intentions, lecturing him to take care of me and treat me right–not that they thought they needed to–but that’s what family does. I wish he didn’t know, but maybe it’s better than he does. Or maybe it isn’t. I don’t want it to be a huge deal, at least not because it’s my first kiss. I want it to truly matter because it’s our first kiss–because it is a kiss.
I don’t like writing about romantic things, but feelings seep in. And I don’t know how else to examine it all.
Maybe I shouldn’t. But that’s who I am. I make lists, think of pros and cons, write out a plan b, listen to the arguments of both sides, think critically, analyze, question, ask.
It’s been so hard to concentrate lately. I think I need to slow down a few things and concentrate on myself and my work. I’ll balance it all afterward, but I need to get back into the rhythm I once breathed. It’s the reason why I’m here. It’s the reason why I’ll stay here and succeed here.
I just can’t stop thinking about him.
He calls me darling.
I’m going to get back on track. It’s a new week, a new day. I’ll just hope that everything else will fall into place if it’s meant to be–it’s worked so far.