November Romance

     A chilly November night, downtown Houston. We had gone to a show, an outdoor theatre. It was in the middle of a huge park, the theatre. We swayed to the music, letting the sweet melody and the lights move us from within. His hulking but tender arms held my waist tightly, pulling me in from behind. As the music ebbed, the crowd dispersed. He gave me a little twirl. The world spun, but it kept spinning even when I stopped. His smirk was the root of my dizziness: so genuine and kind. The innocence of it all baffled me. He was so different from anything I had experienced before. 

     He took my hand. He guided me through winding trails. An oasis of green, smack in the middle of downtown, beautiful. Night had long since fallen, but not a single star could be seen. The overcast sky hung low and heavy like an net, threatening to moisten the ground at any moment, but keeping the rain at bay all the same. 

     We came upon a lake. A man-made lake, with an enormous fountain on the far side. Fowl with multicolored feathers glided across the surface, leaving barely distinguishable wakes behind them. A set of overly large stairs led down to the water, with a thick barrier at the edge. We paused on one of the lowest stairs, and sat. I leaned my head on his chest. He still clutched my hand, fingers interlaced. His hand was so much larger than my own, but it was warm and comforting. We talked for what seemed like hours, completely alone in the world, just staring at this fountain. 

     He led me to an old dock; it looked as if it would collapse at any given moment. The area was secluded from the walking trails. The only sounds were those of the birds swimming and far-off traffic. We chatted and laughed, until there was no more to say. He leaned against the rail of the dock, and drew me in close. The look in his eye said it all, but he spoke those heavenly words anyway. Gingerly, the question left his tongue.

     "Can I kiss you?"

     Without so much as a pause, I lifted my tip-toes and pressed my lips to his. The softness of his kiss, the tenderness with which he stroked my face, set butterflies aloft within my core. I laid my hands behind his neck, pulling him in closer, closer. There was no room left between us, and the kisses exchanged were full of emotion we dared not say aloud. With each kiss, I told him the stories of my heart, how he had renewed my faith in love. I told him tales of past heartbreak. I told him that I never wanted him to leave. With each kiss, he showed me his mind, his soul. The lapping water on the dock pulled me back to reality.

     He looked deep into my eyes, his irises alight from the glow of a street lamp. He lightly kissed my forehead, and I could't help but to smile.

Leaving Loose Ends Loose

I wring my fingers against each other in internal agony.  My heart rises in my chest, and I can see the rhythm of my heartbeat, fading rapidly from dark to light before my eyelids.  I want more than anything not to say what I have to say, right in this moment, right now.


"I'm moving…" I utter quietly, not sure if she can even hear me from across the table.  The restaurant is crowded and noisy, but my tiny words echo in my ears, beating my head like a tympani.  She pauses, mid-bite, and sluggishly lowers her fork.  Her grey-green eyes widen as her jaw drops slightly.  She quickly snaps her mouth closed.  I don't know if it was for shock, or to prevent food from falling out, but either way, the alarm was undeniable.  Yeah, she heard me.

"Wait, like -- moving out?  Moving away?  Moving on?"  Her tone of voice and hand gestures become increasingly loud with each fleeting question.  I can almost see the gears whirring in her brain as she attempts to place this new information in some way that it makes sense.

After all, we only really have each other.  I consider myself as having two friends, but she is the only one who still lives remotely close.  Everyone else has moved away and on with their happy simplistic lives, caring only about finals, or that guy they kissed when they drank those beers with those people.  She was the only one who really understood the agony of being stuck at home, with our parents, with our daughters, alone and bored and friendless.  Except for each other, anyways.

"Yeah," I start hesitantly, "My mom got a new job in Houston.  It will be roughly three months before anything permanent happens, but -- I just thought you should know.  She asked me not to tell anyone, but -- Yeah, I just had to tell you."  I place my hands in my lap, like a child waiting for a lecture, or a punishment of some sort. She isn't the type to take big news lightly.

She surprises me though.

"Oh."  Bits of moisture collect in the corner of her eyes, and she shakes her head and adjusts her hair.  "Well, that's better than being kicked out of your house, I guess."  She avoids eye contact, and shuffles around her fork, the basket of chips, the salsa bowl, her plate: looking at everything except me.

"Hey, look at me, please."  I stare intensely, waiting for her to look up.  When she does, "I'll be back a lot.  We still have visitation with freaking baby daddy, and you're here!  I'm going to come back every chance I get, okay?  I would move out and just stay here, if I had the means to, but you know better than anyone that I don't," I pause, thinking frantically of a way to lighten the mood. "We'll always be name twins, though,"  I tack on as a feeble attempt at a joke, hoping desperately for her to crack a smile.  "We have three whole months, we just have to hang out more before I go!"

"We could go karaoke?" she mumbles, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand.  I nod enthusiastically in response.  She lets out a giant part-sigh, part-grumble and adjusts her hair again.  "I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry.  This is our night out, and I'm not gonna cry."  She flashes a smile at me.  Her eyes still glisten, ever so slightly, but I can tell she will hold true to her words.

I reach across the table and pat the top of her hand with mine.  I quickly retract my arm, and stare at my hand with mock disgust.

"Oh my God, that's the hand you wiped your nose with!! Ugh, now I'm gonna need a baby wipe."  I tease her playfully.

She laughs too, and says, "I'm really gonna miss you, Ashley."