So it started as a creamy pie sugarcoat thingy, you know… that kind of feelings you get when you buy a new dress or a fresh new pair of shoes, instant love, chick flick chain reaction, cheese stuff after cheese stuff, well, that was my idea at first, couldn’t have been more wrong. My first impression of them as a couple wasn’t the prettiest of them all…
He was a tall, slim, tidy boy, nice hair and clumsy hands, used to remain stand up with his hands in his pockets just waiting for some miracle to happen, what miracle? I wasn’t sure; he had that faraway look of those who wander for years in solitude hoping to have a glance of true love right in the next corner. For me, it was insufferable. Cousin of a friend of mine, who have heard mention several times before – It’s a good guy – they told me – So good for her – yes, that the issue, “good” is not enough when it comes to my friends, good is the basic line people need to reach just to be worthy of a hand shake, no, good wasn’t enough. Additional points, no tattoos as far as I could tell.
On the other hand; she was that kind of women you don’t easily fall in love with, she knew this and was perfectly fine with that feeling. Her love for life was based on five simple things: (1) her dog’s love and pretty much every animal that she encountered, (2) medical school, for it was a perfect excuse to stand long shifts eating Banana Pie, (3) coffee & green tea, hipster issues, (4), sleepless party nights, (5) and the fantasy of finding a fairy tale long lasting love, which also included great sex and good vegan food. But taking aside those girly matters, she was my friend, more like my sister without the complaining for stealing clothes and boyfriends, so I knew that – Good – wasn’t good enough for her. Additional points, loves tattoos.
Have you heard Carla Bruni singing? That’s how that night felt.
We were surrounded by smoke, drunk girls, horny boys, lots’ of liquor, empty bottles, scattered ice, barefoot gals, sweat and Rock music. But even tough… they danced a song only both could hear, a sweet slow motion melody like if they were at a Parisian coffee shop while talking about the places they wanted to travel around the world, books and poetry. Even a bitter philosopher could have felt the sweetness of that moment, a slow waltz at the rhythm of their own hands touching each other bare skin. I watched them closing their eyes, shivering in the mood of mesmerizing whisper of enchantment, a tipsy look and playful smiles. She tried to stand in her tip toes but he stopped her, no words, only silent movements –Don’t hurt yourself, I’ll come down to where you are – the world stopped around them. Everything from the jealous couple arguing at the corner of the bar, to the lady in the bathroom smoking the cigarettes she was selling… every little dust mote kept looking at them. And finally … his hands cupped her face, lifted her chin hoping not to spoil the moment with the rush of a frantic desire of their lips to meet.
They kissed for about thirty seconds, the ice in their glasses melted, a beer heated up and I remained staring at them for a while longer, drunk and simple love, those who are meant to be true at least for the glimpse of a moment or what’s left of a French song in summer. But for what is worth… I was wrong about the thin tidy boy and the vegan girl, after all… what do we know about what’s “good” for each other? If it feels good, it’s always going to be worth it. No tattoos were needed. Cheers!
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| Foto por: Kaelyn Alecto |
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