Status: You are all beautiful. Thank you for the comments.
You
28th April 2002
The night we finally spoke was one of the happiest moments of my life (and though you never admitted it the blush on your cheeks told me that knowing this pleased you). I don’t need to remind you of where it was but even the sweaty stale beer stench of the union is etched into my brain and though the moment we shared was beautiful the setting left something to be desired. But that’s what it’s like when you’re young. You take these moments as they come because even then you know that life isn't like the movies. You don’t get a do over or a second chance sometimes you only have that one moment and if you miss it you’ll kick yourself after but if you get it you have to accept the setting and circumstance, you just do.
Your hair was plastered to your face with sweat and your eye make-up had run, rivulets carving tracks down your cheeks. You looked like you’d been crying but your smile was born from ecstasy and it was infectious. Even filled with nerves I was helpless not to smile. I think it made them worse, to know that even something as little as a smile I wasn't responsible for could alter my own mood. You glittered in the spotlights of the street, your dress casting diamonds of light on the pavement as you shivered next to me. It was always freezing but you never wore a coat. I watched as you dipped a delicate pale hand into your ridiculously tiny purse (why do all girls have such tiny bags?) and withdrew a crudely rolled cigarette.
“Want to share?” you asked waving it teasingly in my face.
I didn't but I realised then that underneath this street lamp, shivering in the night, this was my moment. And I was so busy thinking about what I was going to say after I said yes that I hesitated too long and you had turned away ready to ask your best friend if she wanted to. I panicked and grabbed your arm. You spun into me and said,
“Are you going to offer me your jacket then?”
“Yes,” I said worried that if I didn't take it off fast enough you’d get distracted and wander away.
When I draped it around your shoulders you said, “Thanks it’s hard to meet real gentlemen here.”
I beamed and you laughed again and I thought to myself that if hearing you laugh was sweet it was even sweeter to hear you laugh because of me.
Your hair was plastered to your face with sweat and your eye make-up had run, rivulets carving tracks down your cheeks. You looked like you’d been crying but your smile was born from ecstasy and it was infectious. Even filled with nerves I was helpless not to smile. I think it made them worse, to know that even something as little as a smile I wasn't responsible for could alter my own mood. You glittered in the spotlights of the street, your dress casting diamonds of light on the pavement as you shivered next to me. It was always freezing but you never wore a coat. I watched as you dipped a delicate pale hand into your ridiculously tiny purse (why do all girls have such tiny bags?) and withdrew a crudely rolled cigarette.
“Want to share?” you asked waving it teasingly in my face.
I didn't but I realised then that underneath this street lamp, shivering in the night, this was my moment. And I was so busy thinking about what I was going to say after I said yes that I hesitated too long and you had turned away ready to ask your best friend if she wanted to. I panicked and grabbed your arm. You spun into me and said,
“Are you going to offer me your jacket then?”
“Yes,” I said worried that if I didn't take it off fast enough you’d get distracted and wander away.
When I draped it around your shoulders you said, “Thanks it’s hard to meet real gentlemen here.”
I beamed and you laughed again and I thought to myself that if hearing you laugh was sweet it was even sweeter to hear you laugh because of me.
♠ ♠ ♠
You're my diamond in the rough