He sits across from me, a single flame from a tea light candle dances in his eyes as he stares across the small table at me. The remnants of a delicious dinner still occupy the tabletop between us as a warm breeze from a fan in the corner carries with it the sounds of soft piano music drifting out of the CD player. The warm summer night is still thick with a nearly oppressive humidity seeming to make the world move in a sluggishly slow motion, but within the walls of the enclosed porch my heart races, filled with a joy that I can't remember last feeling, if at all. I reach across the table and place my hand on his, delicately running the tips of my fingers across the back of his hand. I stare through the flickering candlelight and into his deep penetrating eyes. He smiles at me; a smile that is warm and genuine and kind and caring. His eyes dance in the candlelight and I can't pull my own gaze away. He did so much in making this night just right and it was really just a last minute plan to have a light dinner together. But here we are with candles, soft music, deliciously prepared food and holding each other's hand across a small table on his front porch. Everything feels so right, but then again everything has felt right with him almost since the first minute we ever started talking.
Could this be "it"?
It scares the crap out of me to be honest. After being burned, abused, hurt and betrayed several times over, it has taken many years and many layers to build the fortress around my head and heart that has kept me from getting too close to anyone. As much as it pained me to realize, I unwittingly accepted my own fate of living and dying alone, unwilling to love or be loved. It had taken me years to construct the walls that protected me along with the vault I held deep inside to lock away my emotions. But like so many Greek or Roman temples whose walls crumbled by fire or quake or war, nothing was indestructible and I am finding that my own little fortress is slowly breaking away.
It's only been a few short weeks, but the time we spend together is like nothing I've ever experienced, and the time apart is filled with a longing to be with him. He makes me smile and laugh. He makes me feel warm and wanted. He opens my heart and my mind. We could talk on the phone for hours or simply sit side by side and stare out into the night in silence. My eyes light up when I see him and they remain so long after we say our good-nights. I can be honest with him without fear of being judged and he can be honest with me without having judgement placed.
Everything seems so right.
And I ask again: could this be "it"?
For our own set of reasons, we both agreed to take things very slow, to move forward day by day.
On the surface, it's logical...
Down below, it's sensible...
Deep within my heart, impossible...
Could this be "it"?
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