Begining
Where should I begin…
Maybe not so far back…
Maybe I can omit the part when they met and when he realized that she did not believe in love (and was sad about it) and the story on how he pushed her to change her mind with travel and experience. I can even skip the part where when she came back, having found somebody and daring not love, (and holding his crush back) he helped her be calm and to listen to her heart and believe in fate.
Maybe you the reader need not be told that we can trust that he had only noble feelings for her and a deep admiration that caused him to be available for her every need, and hold her in his fond friendship.
Maybe I will begin the night that he saw a glimpse of light for the first time.
You see, people like him, are usually moved by love and as windy and stormy as love is, this people hold on to something that they can control to withstand life. He had for years hold on tight to work as a strategy and to success as a goal, leaving little room for anyone else in his heart. He was happy with that, because he had made a huge deal with life: He had already learned how to love, he had already learned how to live inside a house, inside a home. Basically he was housebroken, as the fox with the golden hair prince he had been tamed. He did not need to have girls coming in and out of his life to train for real love. So he created a big place in his heart where his Poet would sit. He only needed to wait for her to show up and he would be ready for her.
He actually had a joke about it. He said all the time that his Poet was out there, sad to realize that he simply was not ready for her. So she sent him girls that would try to sit in her place, letting with each one of them teach him how to recognize her and truly enough he would think each one of them could be his Poet because he would see something in them he could love, and then realizing that love them he could not, he would just step back and learn what would his Poet would be like because of what we loved.
The joke? He did not need training in love, just training in finding his Poet.
That’s why one day when a bunch of friends decided to make an end of year party he really focused on the party, the dancing and the joy. He knew no one in there has his Poet, so hunting was not necessary.
Party and all there where many friends in the place (just as he likes it): friends from work, friends from school, old friends and new friends, wise friends and party friends. All of them having a blast and so was he. Except that he considers himself as a good host and noticed a good soul sitting in a far table far from joy.
He walked up to her, hugged her back as he would always do to show dear closeness, and pulled a chair and sit decided to cheer her up.
“Come on lets dance!” – He said smiling.
“No, its ridiculous to try to have fun here, I mean every one is just trying to have fun because they have to.” – Her voice was a bit shaky from the rum.
“Come on, it’s not so bad to feel committed,” – he said – “dance with me.”
“I don’t want to dance with you here,” – said a completely different girl inside her body – “Why don’t you take me dancing somewhere they don’t see us. Take ME to dance, don’t just dance with me.”
He was a bit shocked, she usually was sweet and witty in her answers yet this one held a bit of a nag, and deciding to ignore it he laughed about it and walked away from the table to dance with some friends.
He did not really think about that phrase until a few days later, but that train of thought will arrive at due time.
Meanwhile in the party a few hours later, they found each other in a group of people that was talking about other people present in the party.
“You see that one in the right? I love her eyes. She is not my type but you have to admit that the eyes draw upon you.” – he said to her looking to spawn an ever lasting fun argument as usually happened between them two, yet her answer, a bit more hosed by the constant flow of rum that came to them, was to drag him across the room and nag him about the importance of choosing properly in love in a sofa.
“You can’t just choose because of her eyes! You have to come close, talk to them, see if you like them or not.”- which was a perfectly normal conversation with her, for it had been clear for them both that they both wanted the best for each other over time, still she suddenly added something in the likeness of talking to her self. – “He is going to end up with somebody just because of her eyes, I don’t believe it.”
She tapped him in the chest as to say sorry and walking away disappointed she sat at the table again. Maybe sad, maybe mad. Clearly with something to say.
So he lent an ear.
She said she wanted to leave that place, so they both convinced a bunch of people to drive to whoever’s house and continue there. Clearly as the night was late, plans of such a thing were brewing in the crowd and all agreed, they two jumped in a cab for a long ride to the next stop in the story.
One thing happed; she did not talk all way to the destination. At first they talked as usual. About singing this time, he wanted to sing and she knew how to do it. So she sang for him as an example of form and body posture. She then proceeded to help him “get a proper form for his body” apparently if your voice is your music, your body is the instrument and placing her self upon him decided that it was impossible to “get the form” in cab and simply stayed in his arms for the rest of the trip. Claiming to sleep, them both stayed still and quiet with each other.
He did not know why she was there, but he liked her warmth against him and was not going to complain.
The drive was long but eventually over.
Arriving to the place was easy, getting in without the owner in the group was kind of hard, and so they waited with some friends that had already arrived.
Eventually everyone and owner got there, and the celebration continued as planned.
In the apartment she approached again, clearly a bit above tipsy – “I want this night to be a party night, but if I do that I can become mean.”
“Mean?” – he said – “Meaning?”
“Well, when I was younger, I use to party a lot, and I would love to walk in to a place, storm it, dance all over, and make guys look at me. Then when they would walk up to me, I simply would not laugh about their jokes or talk about really difficult subjects, basically be mean to them.”
“Oh, I would love for you to be mean, let’s each one of us choose somebody in the party and be mean to them. I actually have my camera with me. Trust me is a YouTube blockbuster.”
“I won’t.” – She said – “The person I would be mean to, already knows I would be mean.”
“Really? And who might the sucker be?”
“You. I can’t be mean to you because you would know and I would just be all over you.”
“Ok.”- He said nervously – “I will just ignore that comment and continue with the -you want a party night- statement.”
“See. You are all boring.” – and walked over to mutual friend started talking about something about her job.
At this point my dear reader, you must understand that he simply and honestly believed that her mean night had already started and she was having fun with him. So he simply enjoyed the night until late and relaxed.
He started talking to the youngest of the fellows in the place, a bloke with a nice silver cradle and 22 years in life experience. So of course, they focus on the young mans latest catches in the game of sex.
Laughing out loud about his companion’s remarks, he attracted her attention again.
She simply walked over and sat next to him, but as night and conversation progressed cold air and a cold floor forced her to sit on his lap. He felt a bit emotional about it and did his best to protect her from Mr. Frost’s kiss.
Eventually, as all good things come to an end, people said their goodbyes and it was necessary to leave the premises for the owner of the loft had gone well to sleep and rest.
She said the name of bar, and continued: “I need to go to a party. My boyfriend is there, friends are waiting for me.”
“Hey, that’s on the way to my house, so let me drop you off.” – He said already missing her warmth as she stood in front of him fixing her jacket strait.
“No need, I’m going with some guys that are going also, they have already called a taxi already.”
“Nice!” – He added – “I’ll drop you guys off and ride the cab home.”
Only one of the guys liked the idea of the third party rally, and in the taxi, he asked to stop a bit on a birthday party near the bar. She agreed as long as he would stay with her to keep her company in hostile ground. Off course he agreed.
This pit stop in the night eventually became the corner stone for this story in a secretive manner. For what happened next, with no one to witness, deeply touched his soul in a way that he had not felt for years, but that can be the tomorrow’s tale.
Maybe not so far back…
Maybe I can omit the part when they met and when he realized that she did not believe in love (and was sad about it) and the story on how he pushed her to change her mind with travel and experience. I can even skip the part where when she came back, having found somebody and daring not love, (and holding his crush back) he helped her be calm and to listen to her heart and believe in fate.
Maybe you the reader need not be told that we can trust that he had only noble feelings for her and a deep admiration that caused him to be available for her every need, and hold her in his fond friendship.
Maybe I will begin the night that he saw a glimpse of light for the first time.
You see, people like him, are usually moved by love and as windy and stormy as love is, this people hold on to something that they can control to withstand life. He had for years hold on tight to work as a strategy and to success as a goal, leaving little room for anyone else in his heart. He was happy with that, because he had made a huge deal with life: He had already learned how to love, he had already learned how to live inside a house, inside a home. Basically he was housebroken, as the fox with the golden hair prince he had been tamed. He did not need to have girls coming in and out of his life to train for real love. So he created a big place in his heart where his Poet would sit. He only needed to wait for her to show up and he would be ready for her.
He actually had a joke about it. He said all the time that his Poet was out there, sad to realize that he simply was not ready for her. So she sent him girls that would try to sit in her place, letting with each one of them teach him how to recognize her and truly enough he would think each one of them could be his Poet because he would see something in them he could love, and then realizing that love them he could not, he would just step back and learn what would his Poet would be like because of what we loved.
The joke? He did not need training in love, just training in finding his Poet.
That’s why one day when a bunch of friends decided to make an end of year party he really focused on the party, the dancing and the joy. He knew no one in there has his Poet, so hunting was not necessary.
Party and all there where many friends in the place (just as he likes it): friends from work, friends from school, old friends and new friends, wise friends and party friends. All of them having a blast and so was he. Except that he considers himself as a good host and noticed a good soul sitting in a far table far from joy.
He walked up to her, hugged her back as he would always do to show dear closeness, and pulled a chair and sit decided to cheer her up.
“Come on lets dance!” – He said smiling.
“No, its ridiculous to try to have fun here, I mean every one is just trying to have fun because they have to.” – Her voice was a bit shaky from the rum.
“Come on, it’s not so bad to feel committed,” – he said – “dance with me.”
“I don’t want to dance with you here,” – said a completely different girl inside her body – “Why don’t you take me dancing somewhere they don’t see us. Take ME to dance, don’t just dance with me.”
He was a bit shocked, she usually was sweet and witty in her answers yet this one held a bit of a nag, and deciding to ignore it he laughed about it and walked away from the table to dance with some friends.
He did not really think about that phrase until a few days later, but that train of thought will arrive at due time.
Meanwhile in the party a few hours later, they found each other in a group of people that was talking about other people present in the party.
“You see that one in the right? I love her eyes. She is not my type but you have to admit that the eyes draw upon you.” – he said to her looking to spawn an ever lasting fun argument as usually happened between them two, yet her answer, a bit more hosed by the constant flow of rum that came to them, was to drag him across the room and nag him about the importance of choosing properly in love in a sofa.
“You can’t just choose because of her eyes! You have to come close, talk to them, see if you like them or not.”- which was a perfectly normal conversation with her, for it had been clear for them both that they both wanted the best for each other over time, still she suddenly added something in the likeness of talking to her self. – “He is going to end up with somebody just because of her eyes, I don’t believe it.”
She tapped him in the chest as to say sorry and walking away disappointed she sat at the table again. Maybe sad, maybe mad. Clearly with something to say.
So he lent an ear.
She said she wanted to leave that place, so they both convinced a bunch of people to drive to whoever’s house and continue there. Clearly as the night was late, plans of such a thing were brewing in the crowd and all agreed, they two jumped in a cab for a long ride to the next stop in the story.
One thing happed; she did not talk all way to the destination. At first they talked as usual. About singing this time, he wanted to sing and she knew how to do it. So she sang for him as an example of form and body posture. She then proceeded to help him “get a proper form for his body” apparently if your voice is your music, your body is the instrument and placing her self upon him decided that it was impossible to “get the form” in cab and simply stayed in his arms for the rest of the trip. Claiming to sleep, them both stayed still and quiet with each other.
He did not know why she was there, but he liked her warmth against him and was not going to complain.
The drive was long but eventually over.
Arriving to the place was easy, getting in without the owner in the group was kind of hard, and so they waited with some friends that had already arrived.
Eventually everyone and owner got there, and the celebration continued as planned.
In the apartment she approached again, clearly a bit above tipsy – “I want this night to be a party night, but if I do that I can become mean.”
“Mean?” – he said – “Meaning?”
“Well, when I was younger, I use to party a lot, and I would love to walk in to a place, storm it, dance all over, and make guys look at me. Then when they would walk up to me, I simply would not laugh about their jokes or talk about really difficult subjects, basically be mean to them.”
“Oh, I would love for you to be mean, let’s each one of us choose somebody in the party and be mean to them. I actually have my camera with me. Trust me is a YouTube blockbuster.”
“I won’t.” – She said – “The person I would be mean to, already knows I would be mean.”
“Really? And who might the sucker be?”
“You. I can’t be mean to you because you would know and I would just be all over you.”
“Ok.”- He said nervously – “I will just ignore that comment and continue with the -you want a party night- statement.”
“See. You are all boring.” – and walked over to mutual friend started talking about something about her job.
At this point my dear reader, you must understand that he simply and honestly believed that her mean night had already started and she was having fun with him. So he simply enjoyed the night until late and relaxed.
He started talking to the youngest of the fellows in the place, a bloke with a nice silver cradle and 22 years in life experience. So of course, they focus on the young mans latest catches in the game of sex.
Laughing out loud about his companion’s remarks, he attracted her attention again.
She simply walked over and sat next to him, but as night and conversation progressed cold air and a cold floor forced her to sit on his lap. He felt a bit emotional about it and did his best to protect her from Mr. Frost’s kiss.
Eventually, as all good things come to an end, people said their goodbyes and it was necessary to leave the premises for the owner of the loft had gone well to sleep and rest.
She said the name of bar, and continued: “I need to go to a party. My boyfriend is there, friends are waiting for me.”
“Hey, that’s on the way to my house, so let me drop you off.” – He said already missing her warmth as she stood in front of him fixing her jacket strait.
“No need, I’m going with some guys that are going also, they have already called a taxi already.”
“Nice!” – He added – “I’ll drop you guys off and ride the cab home.”
Only one of the guys liked the idea of the third party rally, and in the taxi, he asked to stop a bit on a birthday party near the bar. She agreed as long as he would stay with her to keep her company in hostile ground. Off course he agreed.
This pit stop in the night eventually became the corner stone for this story in a secretive manner. For what happened next, with no one to witness, deeply touched his soul in a way that he had not felt for years, but that can be the tomorrow’s tale.
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