First Impressions on a Saturday’s Eve

First Impressions on a Saturday’s Eve[1]

Ebony curls strayed everywhere but the ones that played at covering the right side of her face were impossible not to touch.  Soft and shining they beckoned throughout the night as she sought unsuccessfully to sweep them back into place.  The deep dark golden amber of her partially hidden iris laughed as it peeked through the glistening thicket; partially hidden true, but along with its companion, hypnotizing me, reaching deep into my essence and capturing every part, seeing into my soul and my heart.  Her soft and sensual lips moved, she was greeting me, and I sought to touch them with mine in a casual greeting, her scent overwhelmed me though and I found myself lost and confused in my own apartment, trying to fumble social pleasantries.

I was very awkward, certainly at first.  My first sight of her had been an explosive epiphany, even before I’d realized she was beautiful.  It wasn’t my eyes that recognized her; it was something much more profound, more primordial, eternal; it was magnetic in the sense that a black hole’s gravitational well captures everything, transforms it and never lets it go.  I did my best to hide both my bliss and my surprise.  I think I succeeded but not without cost.  The impression I left, while not fatally flawed, wasn’t something to be proud of; I came off as arrogant and pedantic, and yes, too old.  However, as the evening flew by I mellowed a bit, exploring her mind and her soul, discovering the person I would have hoped for had I been omniscient.

Neither of us ate much of our dinner.  I couldn’t focus on anything but her.  After a while we all left for a little jazz club she hadn’t been to before.  She and I sat and talked and I continued to stare, I couldn’t absorb enough of her.  I couldn’t help myself and totally tuned out the couple with us, the ones who’d introduced us just hours before and to whom I now owed so much.

Finally bored, they offered excuses really seemed designed to leave us alone.  A slightly awkward pause ensued while I wondered what would happen next.  It seemed like one of those moments that change lives.  Alone together, what would that be like?

But instead of potential ecstasy, frigid ice water bathed my soul.  She broke the spell.  Seemingly uncomfortable at the thought of being alone with me, a litany of excuses replacing what an instant before had seemed epiphanies.  She’d apparently had more than enough, at least for that night.  My awkwardness returned full blown now as we all drove her home.

I left her at the gate of her apartment compound, her beautifully sensuous and insouciant smile un-kissed.  Still, the good night hug, warmer than her demeanor would have suggested, told me that her body was special as well.  I realized, amazed, that throughout the night I hadn’t really noticed her as a sexual being; I’d been too dazzled with her soul to consider any more physical possibilities.  Sex could never be as intimate as what I’d experienced when I first saw her, but the hug promised I wouldn’t be disappointed if I ever got the chance to explore her in physically intimate detail.

Confused and defensive, I returned to my apartment, now suddenly lonely, and trying to convince myself that this had been “just another night”, one of too many lately, not a special night, not one that might haunt me forever with its apparent failure.


[1] © Guillermo Calvo Mahé, Manizales, 2010, all rights reserved

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