Tag Archives: crush

the process of falling in love

Using Every Day Poems FB prompt again today, where the task is to write a poem about the process of falling in love.

I can feel
the pull of all those lives
we’ve struggled
together
trying and failing

learning

every time I look
into your eyes
I see us somewhere
in Mexico
browner, shorter
still my same lover
in a different human suit

time twists
in and slows down
every time our eyes
meet and I want to look
away b/c it is
too much
too deep
too shocking
too much

I keep wondering if you
feel the same
thing every time

afraid to ask you
what if I’ve somehow
manufactured
this out of the thinnest
of air?

I’m afraid to touch
you too
wonder if when we finally
do
if there will be a literal
arching spark
before and between

my skin aches
longs
to connect
with yours
to complete the circuit

and still I wait
not sure
questioning
longing

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a very potential friend

I saw you for the first time in my office building – if you can call the old, remodeled-into-offices house where my office is an office “building”.  You were looking at a couple of the vacant offices for rent. I came up from my basement office to get my next client, b/c I heard you up there walking around and assumed it was my client. So I was surprised to go into the waiting room and find you instead, walking around looking, talking to someone on your cell phone. I smiled a toothless, polite, slight “hello” and “excuse me” for looking at you while you’re on the phone b/c I thought you were my client. And I went to sit on the back porch to wait on my client, b/c it had started to rain and smelled so wonderful out there.  And the present-time synchronicity is that as I was thinking and then typing the sentence just before this one, Pandora, several tabs down, was playing a song in which someone was repeating the phrase “it had started to rain”.  And now Nellie McKay is singing P.S. I Love You and sang:  “…yesterday we had some rain.”

You came out on the porch and we said hello and were making polite, stranger conversation, b/c I treat everyone the same:  like they are my friend or a very potential friend. Then you turned to me to say something and our eyes met and I felt a little jolt – like I had been zapped by electricity (and as a former house renovator, I actually know what that feels like, having changed many a light switch and wall outlet).  I fell into your eyes – kinda – it’s hard to explain. I felt comforted and electrified by your eyes all at the same time – how is that possible?

Just writing about it now is birthing butterflies in my gut. You volunteered information about yourself without me asking:  you had just moved here, what your business is, etc. I tried to keep up, trying not to look like the dumbstruck person I felt like. We made lots more eye contact during this exchange, and it was difficult to hear your words. Your energy was so loud to me that it was drowning out your words. I heard you say you were leaving to go and look at other offices over on Stover St. As those words penetrated my brain, I felt like a child whose first, bright, proverbial balloon had just been popped.  Please don’t go, I wanted to say, yet I had a client that would soon show up any second; she was late. Please come back, I also wanted to say.

It felt like you would rent in my building. I tried not to latch on too tightly to that idea, though – or onto you.

I saw you again yesterday before my first client. It had been over a week since that first encounter, and I was really glad I hadn’t latched on too tightly to my reaction to that eye contact thing. I was already thinking you had rented the Stover space. It probably was a lot nicer – my building/house is so old and has plenty of weird little, old-house quirks:  uneven floors pretending to be normal by a covering of modern carpet, molding and trim that run into impossible angles and then just give up and end abruptly without a miter, etc.  I was thinking things like:  I give it up to the Universe. It was not what I thought it was. I was mistaken about that energy/eye contact thing, it wasn’t meant to be, etc.

So I was surprised to see you yesterday. I noticed again, as I approached the building and saw you come out, that there is nothing about you, physically, that particularly stands out for me. Except your clothes seemed very rumpled. It made me wonder. And I thought:  I am mistaken; I imagined it. But then you looked at me and smiled, and I felt that jolt again, and I fell into your eyes again – or whatever that thing is that keeps happening when our eyes hook up.

“So you took the office?” I ask, trying to appear normal and just nice and not like the energy stalker I feel like, b/c I am receiving your energy again, and it is, once again, very loud.  I am trying, again, to not get too excited about this news. “Yes,” you say, “I’m here,” sounding and feeling like you moved in days ago. Where was I?  I’ve been here nearly every day since we met that first time. My client shows up, and there is more eye contact and smiles, as the client and I start down the stairs.

The horribly wonderful thing? B/c you are in the same office building, I have the potential to see you every day.

This morning I put way too much thought into what I would wear to the office today…

 

 

missing you

I didn’t want to fall in love with you. And in fact, I may just have a crush on you, b/c how can I really love you if I don’t really know you? It has been against all my good intentions that I fallen for you. I have been trying to ignore you. Then I tried to distract myself with someone, anyone, else. It has not worked.

I can feel all those other women, those groupies, waiting for you to notice them. I don’t want to be just another one of your groupies. I don’t want to just be waiting there in line with all of them. I can feel and see that metaphorical line – have always felt/seen it.

And you are very busy in your life, always traveling or taking a workshop – always going somewhere. I never go anywhere. I love my home and my life. It seems obvious to me that your passion is NOT a relationship – with me or anyone else. I feel so pathetic to have added myself to your line of women groupies.

Still, I want you to choose me over all those other groupies. I want you to pick me from out of the line, to come back and take my hand and bring me to the head of the queue and ask me to dance.  I want you to tell me I am different from all those other women in your groupie line. I want to be different from them. Sometimes I think I should do something so outrageous and daring that you will have to notice how unique I am. But I can only be myself; that’s all I’m really good at.