The Universe has declared “Open Season on Athena”. Go figure. Years of drought that could parallel the vast dry heat and emptiness of the Sahara has finally given way to some strange monsoon of abundance.
Something about me is different. Something I can’t express or put my finger on or even theorize – but something is definitely different.
I’ll call him Chimera… and he has very striking eyes. One dark amber, and one a steely blue-grey. I had difficulty not staring at him most of the evening and instead tried to focus on the dance performance he invited me to Friday night, but was hard to look away from him as he was strangely mesmerizing.
The NW Dance project is raising funds for their Portland Company so we enjoyed several short dance numbers that left me marveling at the grace and fluidity that I simply don’t possess. There is, I think, something magical about watching people dance like there is no other thought in their mind but the freedom of movement. Gravity becomes only theory, and the quantum possibilities of storytelling via the lines of a human body make for a handful of lost moments – paid to the dreamscape of someone else’s spell.
All the evening over the dance, through drinks with his friends and a midnight run for Mexican food – I couldn’t help but watch him. His pale skin and black hair, mismatched eyes and inviting smile. Combined with an artist’s love of filmmaking, writing and art and a healthy dose of sexy computer geek I felt snared by a complexity that I know could quite easily take a thousand years to unravel. But I do so love a puzzle.
He was charming, and respectful. It felt less a date because we were with a large group of his friends and so I relaxed comfortably into company that felt like a grand new adventure and didn’t at all feel threatened like I might have if we’d actually gone out to drinks alone like we’d originally talked about.
So it was with this level of comfort that I chatted up new people, enjoyed stories and ate food with strangers I can easily see as being friends and when we were wrapping up sometime around 1:30 and we all branched out to our cars; I decided to put on my lip gloss.
Now, for the record, this lip gloss is the Satan of all lip gloss because it is actually a “plumper” with stinging nettles in it to irritate your lips and make them “juicier”.
He offered to walk me to Freya and as we walked and talked I felt comfortably pleased with having spent the evening out with him and was sincerely hoping to see him again. I gave him a goodbye hug that felt slightly awkward and said good night.
He walked a few steps away into the light by the building then turned back to me and announced, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
I had enough time to say, “Oh. Oka—“ and his beautiful mouth was on mine, his arms snaking around my body.
I tried to kiss him back, winding my fingers through his hair, clutching his shoulder – but despite how wonderful it felt to be kissed – my brain was screaming “OH NOES! HE JUST PUT HIS MOUTH ON STINGING NETTLES! HIS LIPS ARE ABOUT TO BURST INTO FLAMES!”
If I’d had any inkling he’d thought of kissing me. If I’d just been paying attention and picked up signal I would have used a chap stick or a simple gloss but now the poor unsuspecting Chimera planted one on a gloss that sometimes makes my own eyes water when I use it.
When he stepped away I felt a shy smile break out and an overwhelming urge to duck my head and grind my toes into the pavement. I was suddenly so distracted by a ridiculous giddy sensation that I completely forgot about the gloss and I turned into shuffling, giggling woman who said goodbye – goodnight –talktoyousoonokaythanksbyecoolnoyeahawesomeIhadwonderfulnightseeyousoon….
He walked backward while we talked and then we turned and strode around the corner and I stood at my car thinking, “Okay, Athena. What the hell is going on?”
Seriously. Nothing in like a hundred years, then suddenly three solid kisses in a month? And not from guys I’d chase away with a stick – but guys I could genuinely be interested in. What are the odds that I finally get kissed by three different men whom I could actually see myself wanting to get to know? And all at the same time and all out of nowhere after a 5 year drought? What are the odds?
Furthermore, did I wake up and suddenly the ginormous warts have fallen off my face? Did I win the lottery finally or is this some new and evil trick being played on me? Am I being punked by the Universe?
I don’t get it. I feel like I am being seen again – but I’ve been in plain sight for years and not even a double take from the one-armed homeless guy I give my change to. I swear to god – nothing.
I have no idea what this means. It’s confusing. It’s fascinating. It’s exciting. Strangely I’m not afraid – I’m more curious than anything. Curious and tentatively hopeful.
That’s if my gloss didn’t burn him too badly and he wants to try again….
Recent Comments