Have you ever been in a situation in which you felt like your heart was pulled in one direction and your mind in the complete opposite one?
I remember the first time we met like it was yesterday. The snow was falling gently, like confetti from the sky. I was sheltered, waiting for a bus, on the corner of Fifth and Broad. While absorbed in a bus schedule, a woman sat down next to me. I looked at her and she smiled and asked me when the #11 was coming.
I stumbled and fumbled, looking down at the bus schedule, trying hard to act casual. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. I looked away, afraid I might start stuttering like a nervous school boy, and instead focused on the bus schedule. It was unbelievably soothing to have something tangible – something that I could actually grasp with my hands and mind – into which I could wring out my nervousness. My hands were sweating despite the cold weather.
I could not help but smell her perfume. The bus shelter seemed to become filled with the rich scent of lavender, almost as if to spite the city pollution. I could feel her warmth, even though we were not touching. I could see her beauty, even though I was not looking at her. I was too scared to look – too scared that I was imagining the intense feelings that were suddenly overwhelming me. These three or four seconds, during which I spent absorbing everything my corporeal body was capable of sensing, lasted for a light year in my mind.
I looked over at her, sensing that I was making her nervous with my silence. We smiled at each other and I managed to tell her that the next #11 would be arriving in ten minutes. My stomach was in knots. I didn’t understand the urgency I felt. I was oddly invigorated with confidence, however, as if suddenly struck by an arrow dipped in momentary awareness.
I looked out into the street at the falling snow and said, “I’m really enjoying the snow. It makes me feel like there’s a blanket of peace being wrapped around the world.”
I thought she might laugh at me or get up and walk away, but to my surprise, she turned to me and said, “That was so poetic. Are you a writer?”
I said, “No. Sometimes I just see what’s actually there.”
She turned towards me and I felt her eyes on me. She was studying me. Maybe she was sensing the same energy I had felt the moment she sat down next to me. I turned more towards her, evenly and slowly, as I wanted to feel every moment as fully and completely as I could. My senses were on hyper-drive. She looked into my eyes I into hers. I could see the world around her melt away, as the snow might melt away if it were exposed to the direct and brilliant heat of the sun. To me, she looked like the sun. Her face was hallowed by an elegance that made my heart skip a beat.
There was something so magical about the intensity of the silence between us. I blinked once and when my eyes re-opened, she was still smiling at me. She suddenly looked away, perhaps feeling shy from our out-of-the-ordinary eye contact. I looked away too, only to feel her turn once more towards me. She said, “Which bus are you catching?”
I was catching the #30. My mind raced. I wanted to tell her I was also catching the #11, but I didn’t want to make the leap from love-struck stranger to creepy stalker. I said, “The #30.”
Without a hint of pretension and in a quiet voice she said, ‘Oh. That’s too bad. I thought maybe we might be headed in the same direction.’
Her honesty gave me a boost of renewed confidence. “Maybe we are.” I smiled again. The #11 pulled up five minutes early. She got up from the bench and looked at me, with a look of subtle disappointment in her eyes. I smiled at her and said, “It was really nice chatting with you. Maybe we’ll cross paths again some day.”
She walked away, through the folding doors of the bus and stopped at the top of the bus stairs to swipe her bus pass.
I stood up, feeling much like a 10-year-old boy who had just experienced his first kiss. There was something about this woman. She had ignited something inside of me that burned like kindling verse. My eyes danced like stars; my guts churned like creamery butter. I could not shake the feeling that I wanted to chase after this woman. The only thing that would be more foolish, I thought, would be to let her walk out of my life. There was something about her – something about the connection we seemed to have – that made me think of destiny.
Panic washed over me as I heard the bus begin to pull away. I came out of my reverie to see her standing on the snow-dressed sidewalk, looking at me with the same sweet innocence and honest uncertainty that I had just been feeling.
We stared at each other, completely unsure of what was happening. I said, “You want to get some coffee?” She laughed – to dispense with our awkwardness I suppose – and said, “Yes. I would like that.”
We turned from the place where we had met and started walking in the direction of a quaint little coffee shop. As we walked, we held our silence and enjoyed the feeling of the snow on our faces and eyelashes. She said, “So, where were you going, before fate decided to change your course.”
“I was on my way to get some coffee, only closer to my home.”
She said, “I don’t usually do things like this, just so you know, but it’s not every day I meet someone who sees what’s actually there.”
We looked knowingly at each other. As we walked together, the snow crunched beneath us and marked a path that led our foolish feet straight into the arms of destiny. And every year since, we have gone back to our special spot to remember how love fell into our lives like soft December snow.
Photo Credit
“New Hope” road_less_trvld 2 Flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.
That was amazing – full of hope, bravery and warmth. You brought tears to my eyes. I think I’ll take this little story, go forth and share it. 🙂
Thank you so much. I love writing. Especially when it moves people to feel good things.
Blessings to you for your kind words.