On Incidents

by HelluvaGirl

I was looking at you the other day and for a moment, as we were silent, your eyes gained an expression entwining sadness, affection, longing, warmth, and I got lost in that sight, and I thought in the background of my disbelief: this must be the look of love, if love had a human face.

That same day, I told you we should stop. See, what you spoke to me about that girl made a lot of sense: you take what’s available for you. You like having fun, and it’s totally legit for single people that we are.

But it’s not what I’m looking for, if I’m looking for anything at all. I’m not looking to waste my time and energy on incidental, circumstantial people. You are ok, it’s just not my cup of tea. I don’t want someone who likes me and then goes with the flow because… it’s fun.

But what surprises me once again, is the sore I feel in my heart. To tears. I don’t understand this, like I didn’t understand us clicking instantly, like our bodies have known each other and just waited for us to meet so they could match.

Why am I so sad? Mourning even? That blue wave covering my chest, like it’s a warm, salty and dark parting with a dream, a possibility, something very familiar and close enough?

Just thought that maybe, if I got surprised by finding you attractive in the first place, maybe I wouldn’t resent you later on? Maybe I wouldn’t get bored and maybe everything would just be different this time?

I would be different? It’s like looking for a mirror that reflects a bearable image of me, and the image I saw in you, was something else… I never felt so wanted and worshiped; never felt like a gift. The most important in the room, and I really don’t know what you saw in me.

Some incidents are just not meant to evolve, are they. They are meant to raise questions, to help us outline what we want, to gently wipe away everything else and to live on towards the real thing after a moving foreplay.