Our Moment Was Made...

Hey.

Was the first word from her mouth, I'm not sure how much she said to herself before or what her eyes said as they found me. But as I turned to look at her, I saw the whites of her eyes, the familiar white surrounding the dreamy silky green irises. The curve of her jaw, my mind thought she is beautiful; more beautiful than I had thought. A smile grew slowly to her face, just a small nervous smile. I walked toward her, got in front of her; I was filled with her smell, a soft fresh floral smell. I asked the predictable, how was the flight. We were like the string section of an orchestra setting up, so much talent in a state of awkward strumming in preparation for the movement. I didn't know what to ask, but I had to ask something, something to hear her voice in my ear again. I motioned toward her, we held each other. Her frame tucked neatly under mine, the feeling so right, the fit so right. Our noses touching, our cheeks pressed, my mouth closed but pressed to the side of her neck. Our first kiss, such a tender embrace; a delicate introduction. Where all I could hear was the sweetest feeling of the electricity when her beautiful little mouth placed themselves gracefully on mine. My breaths filling my lungs with her scent; each touch of her soft skin, filling me with happiness in completion I always felt with her. My shakes calming fear from breaks taming. The lines in the sky from our travels faded, our line together hand in hand began. I took her case and led her to the elevator we were destined for.

Floor -1...

In what was thirty seconds I looked at her, found her freckles, her dimples; I captured her details. The ticking of the seconds was a strong bass beat in my head. I saw her look in my eyes, a look not a glance we shared without expression. My insides were skipping. I was worried but excited, calm but nervous. The train we were aimed for wasn't at the platform, in our waiting she sat in rest I kneeled to touch her, my hands on her knees, my eyes in hers. She stood with me, my arms around her and her arms on my waist - not unlike the movies in the fifties the embrace on the platform. As our train arrived, the familiar sound of the tracks being traversed and as we boarded, she was still distracting me; my concentration on her, the soloist; making my controlling of the luggage somewhat clumsy. We sat, together, entwined; she rested on my chest my arms around her, my smile pressed against her. The women diagonally across where smiling to us, a communication that filled me with confidence. I watched her reflection in the glass as she watched the passing scenery. I grew anxious in the silence, unsure of her thoughts and unsure how to voice my own. Her strokes of my hands reassuring me, my desire to speak all the things I'd thought over the months choked by her beauty of perfection. My looking at her was looking in her, seeing she was an adagio of finer penning than that of any composer; taking in all she is, it was a look with no venal qualities for I was peeking at her altruistic innards.

The peaceful interlude ended as we arrived at the station headed for our next train, the bustling was a rhythm-less percussion; like the start to Pyramid by the Modern Jazz Quartet. I led her; I checked she was progressing with me, I made sure she was ok, that she was managing with the luggage. When we got to point of queuing, we stood together, close, she touched me, I touched her, I felt calm, an ease I had missed. It was what she had always been to me. Amongst the busy we were alone, together. In that instant our eyes, our minds and our skin shared another moment. She prompted me to keep my place in the queue, we fitted together right there. So many people would say it was nothing, it was typical, it'll happen every time we are in a queue and I don’t pay attention to stay close to the individual in front of me – but it was just that it was a 'normal' running of things, sometimes the most ordinary things are extraordinary. I was finding myself in a chorus of these ordinary things she makes extraordinary, she is extraordinary. After negotiating a number of flights of stairs with this case and this arm, we were at another platform. We reached another stage; we spoke, of nothing in particular and the words she voiced all so special; she was just talking to me. Like we had for all those months, those overlapping days, those countless hours but she was speaking to me. We joked of me picking the wrong platform, I was confident but her laugh is such a beautiful sound I was happy to play the joke. On the tube, we stood across. I watched her; I made my arm available to save her balance. I found her in all my sights. She looked to the outside, I don't know if she felt my eyes on her. I was captured, that song she had played for so long, I could hear, it wasn't rapid eye movement; it was there in front of me – loud and clear. I could count the bars, when she looked back at me; I felt the change in note. Something she chimed in me allowed my smiles through, she holds my keys. Even in the tunnel, I could understand she was the light that reached into my heart and soul. I was at the end. We were at the start...