Blue Eyes

It happens like the rest of my love-stories. I envisioned a life with him so perfect, waiting for that very moment for us to meet again. I didn’t think he was my One True Love, but I knew I loved him from the very first moment he introduced himself to me. See, guys don’t stare, smile… or even try to get to know me. I’m a different soul, and he knew it. His smile was magnetic. His eyes were blue, and deep down, I could tell he wasn’t really who he showed himself to be. I knew he was a soft person, longing for authentic love. Longing for a relationship with someone whom he could bond on an entirely different level with. My soul smiles at the thought of that. Things can change, and I have faith in that.

               I still cherish the memory of the night we met. I had no plans on meeting a guy, but I wanted a friend. He was there. Watching me from every corner of the club that was possible. I pretended I didn’t see. I threw in a couple of smiles, not planning on anything else to happen. I ignored him, and when I got bored of watching drunk people dance, I’d check to see where he was. I loved the attention. The affection I craved from anonymous souls and different faces I didn’t see everyday. I wanted to be admired. From the unsober people who wouldn’t be able to remember a single thing they had said but the time they woke up the next morning. I didn’t admire myself that much. The smell of alcohol and men-cologne disgusted me. But I took the smell in, almost fainting from every inhale. Feeling drunk, even though I’ve never experienced the feeling, I told myself this wasn’t the place to be. But I was there.

               Every word he said, he thought on it. Hesitating to say something new, I tried to make him comfortable. But how? When I, myself felt uncomfortable in the scenery. He even knew it. Sensing that he wanted to kiss me, I didn’t do it. But I felt like I should. Thinking of my morals, But also thinking of life, and how badly I ached to experience every pain, every joy, every rhythm of love, vibes. I didn’t want to be blocked off. His touch made me feel alive, and all of the deep eye contacts he made with me made me uncomfortable, but I continued. Those deep blue eyes weren’t used to me, and I wasn’t used to the beauty of them. How could they have spotted me in a room full of drunk faces, unsober smiles and high smiles? Was it because I was sober? Sticking out like a sore thumb? Did he know that I was an innocent soul and I wasn’t supposed to be there? I still think he wanted to take advantage of me, but proceeded in such a beautiful way, he made my heart swell up with pride. I’d never been admired this much by a man. It made me feel good, because I’ve learned that I shouldn’t give my soul, my heart, my all to a man. They are careless. Unafraid to lose, or hurt anything. It’s just the way they are.