A Beat

My words are caught in my throat,

My breaths are short and quick,

I can’t help but think of all the terrible ways this could end...

The conversation comes to a gradual close as we approach the building.

I know this is my last chance.

If I don’t do this now,

I’ll never forgive myself.

My steps slow,

My mouth opens.

I can’t help but think that getting rejected would be the only way to get over her...

The words spill out of my mouth,

The elegant awkwardness of my voice filling the empty air.

My sentences speed by,

Choppy and rushed,

As if by talking fast enough,

I wouldn’t have to hear myself speak;

I wouldn’t have to suffer my own embarrassment

From such an out-of-place question in our normal conversation.

I wait.

I wait for what seems like hours

For one short beat--

We both take a breath.

She is surprised by the shift in conversation,

And I am terrified of what response I will get,

Worried that this simple question could change everything between us.

And I wait for that one long beat,

The weight of the question now off my shoulders,

But the weight of the answer now thrown onto me,

My nervous knees buckling weakly,

Bumping into each other clumsily and threatening to collapse

With the heavy unspoken answer which I feared to hear

And no longer felt able to hold on my shoulders.

And in that brief silence that lasted forever,

With my thoughts racing and my heart pounding,

Her feet stop,

Her mouth opens,

And she says yes.