Piering Into My Heart
It’s sunset, and there’s a warm wind blowing off the coast. I’m in the south, but I could be anywhere, standing on a pier with the distant sounds of crashing waves on the sand. The sky is painted in vivid colors and everywhere are families, friends, people out strolling and talking.
I’m here with him. We’ve been together barely a month, maybe even less since I first saw him. Since I first saw him...
It’s the last day of June. We’ve been talking on OKCupid and my work has interfered a lot. But he persists in keeping in touch and I can’t help but feel drawn. There’s something in the way he writes, in the way his pictures show an open, honest face that I’d like to see in person. He’s cute, in the very real sense of the word. And he has the balls to ask me for a real first date, not just a coffee meet up. When was the last time that happened? I can appreciate that, even though I’m not sure he can handle me. I’m wild, I like big trucks and loud music and I get an Irish temper. He drives a hybrid and is a dad. But there’s something in those eyes..
So at the prodding of a friend who probably knows better than me that I need to be more social, I met him. I planned on a little sushi, a little talk, a hug and calling it a night. As I walked up 30 minutes late to our date, I was running the script in my head. “Nice to meet you. I’m not looking for anything deep. Sorry I have to call an early night. Maybe we can be friends?” And he was there, leaning against a post, or standing near it anyway, so when I walked up and said his name his head turned and was backlit by the sun. “Oh..” I heard in my head. “Oh no... you fool, you weren’t ready.”
I wasn’t. We sat to dinner and I watched him squint in the sun glaring in his eyes, the beads of sweat on his forehead while he listened to me chatter about my family. I chattered a lot. I was nervous, I had gone from so cool and collected to needing his gaze on me. Twice during dinner I realized I wanted to kiss him and asked myself what the actual fuck was happening to me. I’ve been on a lot of dates, and I’ve made men say goodnight despite their interest and left early. So why was this one so different?
He wanted more food. I found that out later. But I was done with the table between us, a feeling I had never experienced on a first date before. Usually I like to keep it there until I have my date questioning if I even know his name or care. But not this one. My brain raced for ideas. Sit in the truck and talk? Wasn’t there a gazebo in the park nearby? Maybe just walking along? But he asked to see the SkyWheel. Every light in my head went off. PERFECT.
I drove us to the wheel, my mind now on one singular focus. Get him in the gondola and figure out how to pull the trigger on this thing. One kiss. That’s all I needed to know if this was just a trick of the light or if magic was brewing. Curse the long lines! How many times could I pretend to be interested in the lights on the wheel? How many jokes about arm rests in the VIP gondola could we make? How many times could we catch each other looking at the other and wonder what was going to happen? The delicious anticipation.
It took a little shifting inside the gondola, first facing the bleak, graying sea to turn and face the brilliant lights of the strip. Around we went, sometimes quiet while I tried to find a way to say I wanted to kiss him. Nothing. Blank. Thanks brain.
The wheel stopped. “Here’s your moment, Jewel, do it. Just lean in.” But my heart was hammering in my throat and what if he turned his head? The rest of the ride would be impossible to live through. So it passed and as we moved again I tasted disappointment in my mouth instead of his lips. “No,” I thought, “I’m not getting off this thing without a kiss. If it stops again I’m just going to do say it.”
Around again, have I missed my chance? Has my courage deserted me when I needed it? But then it slows again with the last vestiges of the sun on the horizon and I stare into it to gather my strength. “What if he says no?” Crosses my mind as I speak. “This would be a good time to kiss if you want to..” And he says yes.
His kiss tastes like sushi and soy sauce and mint gum and sweat. His lips fit with mine like they’re molded that way. It’s everything in a single moment and I don’t want it to end. The wheel moves, the world spins again, but I’m not who I was when I got out of my car only an hour before. So much for not wanting anything serious. That fell into the sea at our backs. Gone forever.
But now we’re on the pier, another sunset, another date. We’ve laughed, we’ve walked, he took a picture of me with the setting sun. I can hardly breathe again as we stand at the railing. The wind is blowing my hair into my face and somewhere in the back of my head I think this is awfully dramatic. The kind of thing you see in movies. Gross. I want it all the more now.
It’s time to go, time for the world to spin again and end the moment. Time to put one foot in front of the other and walk off this pier with my heart in my throat. But he’s lingering, waiting with my hands in his, looking at me. In that one second I can see it just before he says it. “I love you.” It’s like a punch to my stomach, all the air rushing out of my body and my head spins for a second. The heat from the sun pours into my whole body, burning me like liquid gold, filling up the space between my bones and my skin. His kiss tastes like heaven now, pure bliss.
Damn the world, insisting on spinning, on whirling and ending this. But even though it’s over, the memory lives on, burning brightly. A fire we set that feels like an inferno. Will it consume me? Yes. Will it burn me? Maybe. Will I stand in it and raise my arms and embrace it anyway? You can bet your sweet ass. I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.
I’m here with him. We’ve been together barely a month, maybe even less since I first saw him. Since I first saw him...
It’s the last day of June. We’ve been talking on OKCupid and my work has interfered a lot. But he persists in keeping in touch and I can’t help but feel drawn. There’s something in the way he writes, in the way his pictures show an open, honest face that I’d like to see in person. He’s cute, in the very real sense of the word. And he has the balls to ask me for a real first date, not just a coffee meet up. When was the last time that happened? I can appreciate that, even though I’m not sure he can handle me. I’m wild, I like big trucks and loud music and I get an Irish temper. He drives a hybrid and is a dad. But there’s something in those eyes..
So at the prodding of a friend who probably knows better than me that I need to be more social, I met him. I planned on a little sushi, a little talk, a hug and calling it a night. As I walked up 30 minutes late to our date, I was running the script in my head. “Nice to meet you. I’m not looking for anything deep. Sorry I have to call an early night. Maybe we can be friends?” And he was there, leaning against a post, or standing near it anyway, so when I walked up and said his name his head turned and was backlit by the sun. “Oh..” I heard in my head. “Oh no... you fool, you weren’t ready.”
I wasn’t. We sat to dinner and I watched him squint in the sun glaring in his eyes, the beads of sweat on his forehead while he listened to me chatter about my family. I chattered a lot. I was nervous, I had gone from so cool and collected to needing his gaze on me. Twice during dinner I realized I wanted to kiss him and asked myself what the actual fuck was happening to me. I’ve been on a lot of dates, and I’ve made men say goodnight despite their interest and left early. So why was this one so different?
He wanted more food. I found that out later. But I was done with the table between us, a feeling I had never experienced on a first date before. Usually I like to keep it there until I have my date questioning if I even know his name or care. But not this one. My brain raced for ideas. Sit in the truck and talk? Wasn’t there a gazebo in the park nearby? Maybe just walking along? But he asked to see the SkyWheel. Every light in my head went off. PERFECT.
I drove us to the wheel, my mind now on one singular focus. Get him in the gondola and figure out how to pull the trigger on this thing. One kiss. That’s all I needed to know if this was just a trick of the light or if magic was brewing. Curse the long lines! How many times could I pretend to be interested in the lights on the wheel? How many jokes about arm rests in the VIP gondola could we make? How many times could we catch each other looking at the other and wonder what was going to happen? The delicious anticipation.
It took a little shifting inside the gondola, first facing the bleak, graying sea to turn and face the brilliant lights of the strip. Around we went, sometimes quiet while I tried to find a way to say I wanted to kiss him. Nothing. Blank. Thanks brain.
The wheel stopped. “Here’s your moment, Jewel, do it. Just lean in.” But my heart was hammering in my throat and what if he turned his head? The rest of the ride would be impossible to live through. So it passed and as we moved again I tasted disappointment in my mouth instead of his lips. “No,” I thought, “I’m not getting off this thing without a kiss. If it stops again I’m just going to do say it.”
Around again, have I missed my chance? Has my courage deserted me when I needed it? But then it slows again with the last vestiges of the sun on the horizon and I stare into it to gather my strength. “What if he says no?” Crosses my mind as I speak. “This would be a good time to kiss if you want to..” And he says yes.
His kiss tastes like sushi and soy sauce and mint gum and sweat. His lips fit with mine like they’re molded that way. It’s everything in a single moment and I don’t want it to end. The wheel moves, the world spins again, but I’m not who I was when I got out of my car only an hour before. So much for not wanting anything serious. That fell into the sea at our backs. Gone forever.
But now we’re on the pier, another sunset, another date. We’ve laughed, we’ve walked, he took a picture of me with the setting sun. I can hardly breathe again as we stand at the railing. The wind is blowing my hair into my face and somewhere in the back of my head I think this is awfully dramatic. The kind of thing you see in movies. Gross. I want it all the more now.
It’s time to go, time for the world to spin again and end the moment. Time to put one foot in front of the other and walk off this pier with my heart in my throat. But he’s lingering, waiting with my hands in his, looking at me. In that one second I can see it just before he says it. “I love you.” It’s like a punch to my stomach, all the air rushing out of my body and my head spins for a second. The heat from the sun pours into my whole body, burning me like liquid gold, filling up the space between my bones and my skin. His kiss tastes like heaven now, pure bliss.
Damn the world, insisting on spinning, on whirling and ending this. But even though it’s over, the memory lives on, burning brightly. A fire we set that feels like an inferno. Will it consume me? Yes. Will it burn me? Maybe. Will I stand in it and raise my arms and embrace it anyway? You can bet your sweet ass. I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.
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