The touch

My plan of ignoring your existence and moving on with my life was working out fine. That is until Kyle casually mentioned that you and Natalie (the roommates girlfriend of 4 years) had broken up. I hate how he does that. Mention something of obvious magnitude as if it were just a passing blip of no value! I was devastated for you and yet elated at the same time. Unsure of what to feel for any of the men in my life I once again began to put distance between Kyle and myself. I wanted you to know you weren’t alone in your aloneness even if it meant you sitting upstairs in your room all day and me sitting outside all day, never speaking or touching, just knowing we were in this together would be enough. I martyred myself for you and I was fine with it… except that I was beginning to feel a little bit on the crazy side of things. Why was I going to all this trouble (which would most definitely be unnoticed both by you and the amazingly astute Kyle), when you clearly had a complete disregard for my existence? True there were those amazing moments of warmth bursting through but that only made things more complicated and left me ridiculously pondering the chance that their might actually be hope for more.

It wasn’t until later that year – in the fall, that I got to feel ‘the touch’ again. I say ‘the touch’- because as I stated before; although there were moments our bodies would physically come into contact (a shoulder bump, the passing of a glass or plate of food), these were simply controlled forbidden moments of pleasure. The touch I’m speaking of was the kind we didn’t just allow to happen but actively sought out. We were having a birthday party at the house; I was wearing a smoking hot red dress with heels and feeling fine. I know you appreciated the overall effect because red is your favorite color. Once the end of the evening had rolled around (which for our crowd is around 3am) the straggling party goers had receded into their separated corners of drunken fun; gossip in the kitchen, smoking outside, dancing in the living room and me in the center of it all. I love the end of parties the most I think. Everyone becomes so disjointed and their actions more intense, almost fragmented, as if they know they are running out of time to do something memorable before the night ends. An then there you were. Already peering towards me from across the room, waiting to see who I was going to make my way over to say goodbye too next. I walked purposefully towards you and let your arms wrap around my shoulders in a tight squeeze, which turned into a bit of a wobble, then a lean which was followed by a subtle sliding of your hand down, down, down  until i felt your palm on nestled in the small of my back. The grazing of your fingertips was probably the most excited I have felt since I was 18 years old. Heat erupted across my body and I almost couldn’t let go.

You should have seen the smile on my face as I drove home that night.

I didn’t have to wait long after that for the next ‘touch’, I knew we would all be silly together at the upcoming halloween party and was looking forward to it. Living for it. Kyle was upstairs doing homework that night and your girlfriend Natalie was out with friends so it appeared we would both be flying solo, which was perfectly fine with me seeing as we had done all the prep together anyways. You and I were carving pumpkins out back just a few hours before people would start arriving when we started discussing things we probably shouldn’t discuss. How many kids you wanted, what countries I dreamt of traveling too one day, why we both loved the smell of baby’s hair. You know. Once the party was in full swing  you and I morphed into the perfect pair of hosts. I loved running around like a drunken little Martha Stewart all night; greeting people then checking in with you, trying to pump the keg for someone outside and you stumbling out to check on me, playing beer pong, but only one game because i should go check in with you. A hand placed gently on the arm or back every single time. At one point you got excited and ran over to tell me something you found amusing, this time you didn’t even try sliding your hand you just placed it directly where you wanted it, and it appeared you were the one having trouble letting go this time. I know it’s horrible and I was probably taking advantage of your stupor but I didn’t even care (nor do I now!) I was more than willing to soak up every ounce of affection you had to spare that night.


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