The Bats of Love

Sep 17, 2009 14:38

It's always like that.  The morning after is touched with longing and little shivers as the mind plays over what went before.  If the shower was skipped, there's a little touch of his scent that lingers, invisible hot fingerprints still on the skin.

He didn't wear cologne, I don't think, but he smelled good.  I think it was his deoderant, and it was familiar, but not in a bad way.  Just fresh and masculine.

I shouldn't fall in love, but I want to talk to him.  There's still so much I don't know, want to know.  If I don't know him, how can I possibly love him?  If I don't love him, how can I possibly ...  The previous four were prefaced with weeks, months or years of knowledge, so how can I start from complete zero with this one and feel comfortable?

I wasn't initially remarkably impressed, and we have no common friends, only common places.  But after four dates and as many phone calls, I feel that familiar flutter in my belly.  Eager anticipation.  Can PA grow to a high interest level?

I don't want to wait for another day to go by to see him, but there are things I can do tonight and my very cherished independence shouldn't be neglected.  I'm making it on my own for the first time in my life, digging myself out of a hole alone, a hole dug by and for two.  I don't want to waste this time falling for a silly boy (Boys Are Stupid, Throw Rocks at Them), but but but...

His mouth, the set of his teeth when he talks: they remind me of JSH.
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