Kindred Spirits

Based on a real life experience with a friend of mine.

Night falls and my body immediately activates night-time mode. I wash up and slip into my pajamas. Usually when retainers are locked into my jaw, there is nothing that will remove me from my routine. 

But then I received a text.

It was from him.

He plopped the shiny bait in the murky water. My sleepy eyelids receded back so that my eyeballs can pop out. He was inviting me out with some of his friends. 

 I tried to fight it, I swear.

I half-assed some excuses. He wouldn't take it. I liked that he was almost begging me to go. I was allowing me to be pulled out from my bubble. It made me feel desirable.

You have a boyfriend, I reminded myself. Nothing would happen unless you let it happen.

A wave of nausea erupted in my throat, releasing guilty temptations and dishonest feelings.

I texted my boyfriend that I was going to the bar with some friends. Surprisingly, he was ok with it. That made me feel worse. If he knew how strongly tempted i felt, there would be a fight. I thanked the universe for not granting humans the gift of mind reading. It would tear so many lovers apart.

I waited in the parking lot for him and his friends to arrive. It was the most agonizing 20 minutes ever. 

He jumped out of the car and embraced me immediately.

He walked next to me ask we entered the bar.

Please don't trip. Please don't trip. I told myself.

This bar always had an unfavorable rep. It was always littered with unattractive men and middle aged women who you would assume were probably trailer trash. 

The floor is wet and sticky, could be alcohol, could be dirty mop water, could be tears. 

The humidity stays outside, but the clanking of billiard balls behind me is just as distracting. 

And then there is us. He pulled out my chair for me at the bar. 

You're not charming me with that maneuver. 

My cheesy, wide smile doesn't mean anything. 

The minutes go by. With every sip of whiskey he takes I watch his mouth. When he talks I am locked into his gaze. He places a hand on my bare shoulder. My heart does a single, powerful jumping jack in my chest. 

Touch me again. 

The conversation becomes more intimate. 

He discloses the hardships of his life to me. He knows I'm listening. I am responding. 

He trusts me. 

He puts a strong hand on my exposed knee. 

Don't lift it off.

His two friends are enjoying their own barbaric conversation. He doesn't join. He asks me more questions. 

What do you want to do with your life?

My cheeks flush and I release the reigns of a nervous laugh. 

Tell me. 

His face inches closer to mine. 

If you kiss me would I stop you?

He demands to know. 

I look at the 3 empty glasses in front of him. Then I look at my water. I am not drunk, but I feel fuzzy. Every time he touches my bare skin it feels like i took a shot of vodka. My cheeks are rosy. I don't need a mirror to know. 

I feel I could tell him my real passions. My real goals. I never told anyone besides my mother of course. I was too embarrassed. 

I blurt out what I want to do. 

I wait for mocking laughter. 

His expression falls to seriousness. 

He takes it all in. 

That's amazing. You have to do it. 

I can't leave here it's too hard. He might actually see me cry. 

I felt the same way. You just have to go for it. It doesn't have to be forever. You have to enjoy your life. 

He is referring to his move to the other side of the country. 

Suddenly something happened. 

The hair, the smile, the eyes. 

They all worked together to draw me in. I fall in love with not him, but the idea of him. He has showed me something about my life. 

The entire night there was this invisible interaction of energy from the both of us. 

As if we were long time lovers. 

Showing one another how our past has shaped us and who we need to become. 

Hearing each other's sad howling like a defeated wind. 

Catching each other when we fall. 

Washing the salt from one another's cheek. 

Our souls will find each other in another lifetime. 

Even if only for a moment.