Those First Tender Moments

Your heart starts pounding. You've just wrapped up brunch. Your smile reflected in her eyes. Hands entwined together, fingers dancing with intimacy. You head back to your place to decide what to do for the rest of the day. You have an idea of what is going to happen next, or you don't. The truth it you haven't got a clue, this is brand new territory. The entire ride home you can’t help but laugh. Every note rings true, you burst into colors but in a pathetic way to remain calm you simply nod and smile. Afraid to let her know, let her know that she has you. All of you.

She glows in the sunlight streaming through your living room windows. It's a moment you'll remember forever. She kisses you, or maybe you kiss her. It's hard to recall. That innocent first kiss. It's amazing. Suddenly your overanalyzing—too much tongue, too little—goes right out the window. You aren't thinking. You're feeling. Feeling what it's like to be close to someone. A warm summer's day in the dead of fall. You stand up, lead her hand and pause. Pause in eternity. Are you moving too fast? Was this too soon? Is she going to storm out, did you offend her? Is she going to tell you to slow down. Hanging out in space tethered by her soft grip.

She follows you to the room. Your heart is in your throat. You lay on top of the sheets. Kissing more, hanging on the precipice. Afraid and exhilarated to dive under the sheets. Everything you want in this moment yet you hesitate. It’s also everything you are in this moment. No hiding, not now. Bare it all, in front of her, are you brave enough? Sheer terror grips you, have you ever been so close to someone. Has she? If she spent ten minutes inside your head would it send her packing? The world collapses in, as it does, with another kiss. As your clothes come off you gingerly use the sheets as paper thin armor. There is no love without vulnerability. No passion without courage. She runs her hands along your bare skin as you explore hers. A point beyond space and time, your identities left at the door, egos shed like clothes. As you make love the dance of insecurity and adoration begins. Dipping and swirling, over thinking and under feeling. Sensation takes over and you realize. This isn’t sex, it’s connection. Every subsequent moment is spent trying to connect, honestly and purely. Closer still. Give yourself completely, accept her indefinitely. Your pupils dilate as you lay side by side. Breathing heavy, bodies entwined. Magic was created for moments like these. Your mind begins to ramp up once again. You no longer belong to yourself. How could you? A pure moment of complete surrender, honesty.

As you walk her home you count the steps backwards. A feeble attempt to squeeze every moment. Trap every memory. Clutch everything. Pick her up and sprint in the opposite direction. That’s not love. That’s selfish. So you’ll count the snowflakes, because the diminishing distance is breaking your heart. An early snowfall doesn’t mean much, yet it triggers change, the start of something new. You round the corner, the final stretch. As you continue on you notice that unison of stride, one single crunch with every shared step. Three upward steps to her door, you imagine, manifest, self actualize another million. No, there are only three.

As you get to her door your soul screams. All the demons are silenced by five little words.

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

You kiss her. Bare it all.