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The Date Heart races like a squirrel in a cage, A calendar marks an all-day event, Calls of friends and family ignored.. ..they're all signs of an important occasion for that day. A myriad of scarves lined on the couch, Ample frocks lying on the bed, Fabulously shined shoes carefully placed nearby.. ..they're things we do when we look forward to that special evening, the date. Abounding with an unusual mix of fortitude, delight, & introversion; I couldn't wait for Thursday to come. Somehow, my thoughts had no room nor tolerance for anything and anyone apart from him, and I was counting the hours, till Thursday. Like every time we meet, he looked sharp, only more captivating -- For a moment there, the hardest thing was to restrain every temptation I had to embrace Him, and bury my face beneath His athletic mass. Somehow, I managed without, for acting upon my impulse, I believed, may have provoked a play of light gossip. Instead, I walked away, animated by what was to become of him. Is he anxious to be here? Does he like the place I chose for him? What does he think of the colors, the surroundings, the atmosphere? Is it too cold out here? too hot? too noisy, or too foreign? -- I looked at him and he seemed indifferent to the curious eyes gazing upon the two of us, I then took a deep breath of comfort, bagged up my thoughts and took a seat on the corner bench, proud as the proudest of dignitaries. Despite the fact of it being a practice session in entirely foreign grounds, IB performed spectacularly, tense at the beginning but relaxing into it, petit-a-petit. I came back home that evening basking on the pulpit of happiness, & despite the fact that planning my day in isolation proved taxing on my relationship with friends, it was really difficult to feel anything else. I'm just very honest and upfront that way, and even though many of us tend to bend under social pressure and obligations, I'm quite selfish when it comes to my time -very selfish in fact. But then again, this kind of selfish has no negative connotation to it whatsoever, it doesn't mean that I don't care for the concerned parties or love them any less, it's just simply and realistically expressing that -in your very small windows of time- you would rather be on your own doing your own thing, or cultivating friendships you opted to commit to many years ago. The other dimension of this compelling feeling is that -in the presence of IB- all else becomes secondary. He is a priority, and the time I spend with him is twice as special in the absence of all that come in between the two of us; be it distance, conversations, people, or work. No one gets me like he does What we ![]() ![]() ![]() Labels: Life Events, Pony Tales $8 in my moola box | link | email this post |
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