Once Upon A Time

Once Upon A Time

It was 18 years ago, today. I was 18 years old. I wish I could say I knew then that he was the one. But when he introduced himself I was smug. Trying to pretend that I was neither affected nor concerned and that I would remain indifferent if he sat beside me or if he moved past. As I already possessed the knowledge of good and evil; garnered by chance and bad choices. But he was cunning, witty, smart –handsome. He sat down and in a sing-song voice said, “Can I tell you that, I just love you.” I had sense enough to know that this was a line. It couldn’t have been reserved for me. But the moment he said it, his hand lighted, briefly upon my knee. He was sincere; his touch correct. I was undone. We shared a Physics class and had passed each other in places. But familiar, we were not. Not even to know one another’s names. But the two hearts knew all. It was confirmed as we watched the movie together; the movie that we had not planned to see. Gritty, complicated, intense emotion splayed on the screen. Love, hate, lust, happiness and grief. At some point I tried muffling the subconscious communications with the stranger by shifting and fidgeting in my seat. But the questions were already being asked, silently. Us? It was our own indecent proposal of sorts. But the two hearts didn’t care. They mingled and brushed against each other, kissing wildly, touching, conversing…wrapping fingers in hair. Do you really want that? Can we be that to each other? Even that? On this our first meeting there was no denying the fact. I knew him and he knew me. Forever.

©P.Brooks 9/3/2011

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