July 30, 2004
You would not believe the boy, smooth and swift, as he pulled up that night on his DR350. Although his presence had already been announced, I could not help but stare, all of my world breathless and still, just to make sure it was indeed him. I saw the colorful helmet upon his head, the red pack strapped to his back, the position of his feet upon the DR's peg and I knew...I lost all recognition of the conversation I had, moments before, been involved in and skipped quickly to the bar in search of his first Miller Light. No one stood before me, not one thing held my distraction - I only knew he was behind me, well prepared for a drink. With an increase of heart beat, eyes growing wide and a balance suddenly less graceful, I returned to the door, holding out the cold bottle of beer in my hand. His helmet not fully removed, I began to retract my offer and gently curse my extension of obvious eagerness.
At the table nearest the door he placed his belongings and I quickly procurred an ashtray, all the while feeling dizzy with his presence. I sat for awhile as, one by one, another person greeted his smiling face and perhaps shook his hand. Over my shoulder, I kept a wandering eye on Jason, sitting with a group at the table on the other side of the bar where I had spent my previous hours. Every so often I returned, to chat with Jason and explain the entrance of that man atop the DR.
Back and forth, my body strayed; not wanting to leave Jason to all the strangers and never able to keep myself from Shane. I ordered the bartender to keep Shane's drinks on my tab as I was excused from his consistent company. Here and there I travelled, round the room and back again - my wandering eyes not for a moment failing to find his gorgeous face.
Eventually Jason would find the bar and I would join him in order to fill my glass. As I sat there, he exclaimed at how good I looked just then - my face so bright with wide and glowing eyes, my back arched with eloquent grace and a smile gleaming with the knowledge that HE had arrived. How everything I am is affected by him, how sudden the world I live in can be changed by his hold on my heart, how wonderous - such deep adoration. And I could not deny the brevity of his words, though my cheeks must have reddened with his accusation of my tacit nature.
The remainder of the evening found Shane and I seated together at the table nearest the door, mildly conversing, as I found myself tortured with ardor. Steadily my senses would seek out the curve of his lips, the dimples that accompany his smile, the color of his eyes, the build of his nose, the the motion of his fingers... How I wanted to reach out and gently touch his face, caressing the same features I've known a million days over that never cease to boldly strike me and always leave me wanting more. But the night had to end and I knew...
I knew that hug would provoke the struggle of never wanting to let him go. I knew the sight of watching him ride away would be forever pinned upon my heart, piercing my emotions with each passing day. I knew that I did not desire to drive away, but that by turning down just one more street with my lack of direction, I would make the journey of returning to him impossible.
You would not believe the girl, so ready and so right, as she drove in the opposite direction of the night. What miserable strength must have gripped me. What tortured pride must have kept me from turning 'round...