Making Sense of Love

I will admit it to myself; I believe I am forming quite the crush on Mister Baritone. On one occasion when his callused fingertips brushed my arm I thought I would smile so hard that my face would crack open. He tole me the calluses were from regular guitar playing. I felt a tingle linger long after his fingers left my skin. I daydreamed the whole rest of my Saturday about feeling his skin against mine again. I sighed heavily and smiled.

I tried to shake the thoughts off; when my mother came to visit she asked me why I couldn't stop smiling. I wished that I wasn't so painfully obvious, but it had been years since I have felt so alive and filled with hope for a romance. I bite my lip and decided why not tell her. I spilled about this guy, whose voice was a constant reminder that I could still draw a man’s attention. My mother then began to pry about him, but I didn't have much to say. I had never spent more than five minutes with him after class. We spoke of little else outside of the arts. So I told my mother that it was just a crush nothing more to it.

Daisy lay at my feet and I just sat stroking her soft fur. I could hear her steady heartbeat, a constant comfort to me. My mother happily chatted as she stocked my cabinets and fridge with food. I rolled my eyes and she went on and on about some reality television show. I never like reality TV, its too fake. I made a dry joke that I preferred to hear comedies and she went silent. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut; my mother doesn't get my humor. I know that all I did was hurt her feeling and remind her that I could no longer see. Daisy sensed my mother’s tension and began to whine. I got up and Daisy trailed at my side. I walked over to my mother and hugged her. I filled my lungs with her scent and apologized to her for my insensitivity. She stroked my hair and just nodded.

I spent the rest of my day with classic music and a paint brush. I was trying to capture the face of a man I had never seen. I just let his voice guide my brush to what I assumed would be what he looked like. Not that looks mattered one bit at this point. I did, so desperately, want to feel his face. To run my fingers across the slope of his nose, the slant of his eyes, the caress of his lips. I blushed to myself just at the thought. I shouldn't allow my mind to wander so far over this man. I mean I am not even sure how he feels about me. Or even if he feels anything at all towards me? Or how old he is? Or his last name? Or anything that he thinking about? Or rather if he even gives me a passing thought outside of our shared workshop. I ignored a small pinch of sadness at the thought of these feeling not being returned. I should stop being so silly, I am not a school girl anymore. Shouldn't we get to outgrow having crushes?

I threw down my paint brush frustrated with my feelings. I decided to have a nice bubble bath and take my mind off of Mister Baritone. That’s when my cell rang; I had forgotten that I even had one, that’s how little I ever get calls. It announced that Mary Givens was calling. I picked it up on the third ring.

“Hello Mary,” I sat down on the edge of my couch.

“Hello Karen, I am glad I caught you. I wanted you to know I am assigning partners to spend all of Friday together. Then you will do an abstract painting of your day together on Saturday during the workshop. I have assigned you to work with Todd.” My heart picked up the pace. “Will that work for this Friday?”

“Uh, yes. That will work just fine.” I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice.

“Perfect!” She seemed so relieved that I agreed. “He will be calling you tomorrow to arrange the plans for the two of you. Have a good evening Karen.”

“Thank you, you do the same.” When I heard the phone cut off, I threw myself back onto the couch and sighed.

I would be spending my whole Friday with Mister Baritone. I couldn't wait.