We met at Karen’s going away party in her apartment. She was having people over from work in her place that smelled like mildew off the highway.
I wore a blue dress because Chris told me I looked beautiful in it two years ago when I wore it last. I finally felt okay enough to wear it again.
As soon as I walked in, I was handed a beer and sat on couch, slowly sinking in the broken middle. I wished to be invisible, sipping on the drink that I didn’t want and then I noticed you.
You stood in the corner. Your long hair falling into your eyes. Your fingers holding your beer. Your lips laughing at something the girl in front of you was saying.
Suddenly, I wanted to be bolder. Less self-conscious. More drunk. I wanted to be more of something else. More of someone else. Someone that isn’t me.
For the next hour, my eyes continued to find you. Discovering pieces of you that’ll be forever marked in my mind.
And then you caught my eye. A corner of your lip turned up and you wandered over to me. And there I stood in an outdated blue dress, blushing from your smile.
I thought of how to introduce myself, what to speak to you about, how to sound more interesting. I wished I knew more about politics, art, music. You looked like you played bass in a band. Your hands were big.
I smiled when you got near. There were fireworks in my stomach. I forgot to be nervous while we spoke. I forgot to check my hair, how loud my laugh is, how much I’m talking.
You took a sip of beer and I watched you swallow and wondered what it would be like to kiss your neck, your jaw, your mouth. I put my hand on your arm and your fingers brushed my waist.
We laughed at our age difference. The fact that I’m three years older doesn’t seem to bother you. You brush my waist, my hips, my skin with the tips of your rough hands.
And then that girl with the auburn hair and the perfect skin that makes me want to cry said you have to go. I felt my heart slip to my throat as she took your hand, your eyes, your presence away from me.
I never got your last name. I whispered good-bye. I never see you again.