Utopia Road
Sometimes I just think I am hopeless. Other times I think about what I'm thinking and I realise that I am not very imaginative when it comes to inventing love stories. It must be that after all I am a conventional romantic person, in spite of my pretending to be careless about these matters.
Ok, this is how I imagine it (I thought about it last night, sleepless, at two; but then, I was already making it up in the afternoon, and by the end of the day I had the basic plot in my mind...Not twenty-four hours, what am I saying, not one hour and I there I was, on Utopia road):
somehow he asks me out; how? when? where? It doesn't matter! Maybe we just meet somewhere, I could be out for a walk or stuff, all that matters is: he asks me out. And out we go, cinema, or a coffee, winter's approaching so a slow walk towards a cosy cafè sounds like the best scenario, and so on;
On the night of the Christmas concert he is there, and when we finish and go out for the reception he meets me and I introduce him to some of my friends, in the general post-concert excitement, which is conveyed by my going around and saying hello to every breathing person, taking sips of wine and biting occasional food that is offered to me by people. But this is not the point. The point is, somewhere during the reception I decide it's time I take my sax to the car, because I feel better when I know it's locked somewhere safe, although who could be interested in an old sax that needs a good polishing, God knows. He says he will accompany me there, I say ok, we walk to the car, I put the sax away and lock the car.
This is the moment when we walk back to the reception and we stand at the top of the stairs, people wolfing down food like they've never eaten in their life, and he says he's got something for me. I try to be funny by saying "oh, good: money?", and he smiles and reaches out his hand and a small packet wrapped in red paper and a golden ribbon. I blush heavily and I open the packet very slowly, all the way repeating that he shouldn't have, that I had bought nothing for him, and I'm so sorry, and he just looks at me unwrapping the gift and blushing. The packet contains a small box, which contains a silver necklace with a small silver and diamond heart. I feel my heart missing about a hundred beats as I look at the necklace and then at him, who's smiling but looks tense, and I cannot even say thanks, all the words have dried in my mouth. He says something romantic like" you can say that this is my heart, and I want to give it to you", and I can just look at him and try to say something, which in the end is going to be a banal "thanks, you shouldn't have" (again).
Then I offer, or should I say I ask if a hug in return is ok, or maybe a kiss, and I myself don't know what I mean or want to mean by that, and this is when we hug.
We hug in a way that he sinks his face into my hair, breathing me, and he whispers something in my ear that I don't quite understand because he's holding me so tight and this is such an unbelievable moment. He kisses me on the neck, right under the ear, then moves up and centre, slowly, to feel and record every second, but at the same time with a kind of urge, of passion, he kisses my right cheek, then goes up onto the forehead, and down on the left cheek, until our mouths, at last, meet.
I particularly like the kiss under the ear.
And the rest, as they say, is silence.
Ok, this is how I imagine it (I thought about it last night, sleepless, at two; but then, I was already making it up in the afternoon, and by the end of the day I had the basic plot in my mind...Not twenty-four hours, what am I saying, not one hour and I there I was, on Utopia road):
somehow he asks me out; how? when? where? It doesn't matter! Maybe we just meet somewhere, I could be out for a walk or stuff, all that matters is: he asks me out. And out we go, cinema, or a coffee, winter's approaching so a slow walk towards a cosy cafè sounds like the best scenario, and so on;
On the night of the Christmas concert he is there, and when we finish and go out for the reception he meets me and I introduce him to some of my friends, in the general post-concert excitement, which is conveyed by my going around and saying hello to every breathing person, taking sips of wine and biting occasional food that is offered to me by people. But this is not the point. The point is, somewhere during the reception I decide it's time I take my sax to the car, because I feel better when I know it's locked somewhere safe, although who could be interested in an old sax that needs a good polishing, God knows. He says he will accompany me there, I say ok, we walk to the car, I put the sax away and lock the car.
This is the moment when we walk back to the reception and we stand at the top of the stairs, people wolfing down food like they've never eaten in their life, and he says he's got something for me. I try to be funny by saying "oh, good: money?", and he smiles and reaches out his hand and a small packet wrapped in red paper and a golden ribbon. I blush heavily and I open the packet very slowly, all the way repeating that he shouldn't have, that I had bought nothing for him, and I'm so sorry, and he just looks at me unwrapping the gift and blushing. The packet contains a small box, which contains a silver necklace with a small silver and diamond heart. I feel my heart missing about a hundred beats as I look at the necklace and then at him, who's smiling but looks tense, and I cannot even say thanks, all the words have dried in my mouth. He says something romantic like" you can say that this is my heart, and I want to give it to you", and I can just look at him and try to say something, which in the end is going to be a banal "thanks, you shouldn't have" (again).
Then I offer, or should I say I ask if a hug in return is ok, or maybe a kiss, and I myself don't know what I mean or want to mean by that, and this is when we hug.
We hug in a way that he sinks his face into my hair, breathing me, and he whispers something in my ear that I don't quite understand because he's holding me so tight and this is such an unbelievable moment. He kisses me on the neck, right under the ear, then moves up and centre, slowly, to feel and record every second, but at the same time with a kind of urge, of passion, he kisses my right cheek, then goes up onto the forehead, and down on the left cheek, until our mouths, at last, meet.
I particularly like the kiss under the ear.
And the rest, as they say, is silence.
posted by Peggy @ 2:44 PM
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