Thursday, March 15, 2012

A Moment

You feel tired, haggard even, and you know your eyes are telling the same story.  It's the end of the day and your make-up (concealing all of the stress and worry of "life") has slipped away after countless rubs to your face.  Your hair desperately needs a brush through it, your teeth feel like they are crawling with sweaters and you utter hardly a word because you're so exhausted that you worry your thoughts will come out all convoluted and you'll make a complete idiot of yourself (something you're quite versed in).

Maybe it's the fact that the wind has died down to a gentle breeze, or perhaps the moonlight disguises the dark circles framing your eyes.  Whatever it is, he stands there, nearly nose to nose, looking at you, breaking down barriers, practically melting right through you.

"What?" you ask in a nervous giggle.

"Just looking at your face," he says honestly.

Although your first instinct is to cringe, you resist because there is something in the way he tells you.  Suddenly you feel alive and beautiful and you forget all about the slightly smudged mascara.

It's like in that moment, the world grew smaller and you're all he sees.  In that moment he's soaking up the whole of you, basking in it like it's a good thing.  In that one moment, he shares so much without saying a single word.

It's in that moment you realize... you want more moments.

1 comment:

Craig said...

So I can't relate to most of that, but the too tired to talk sensibly bit. On several occasions I've had to work 30+ hours straight to hit my deadlines. I've noticed that when I'm on the second day of no sleep I can barely form words anymore, but I can still perform complex analysis on massive data sets. I guess that's the stuff that stuff I'm really good at . . . people are hard.