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She comes by my place. We're upstairs and she sees my modestly furnished apartment then we head to get some food. She's nervous in the shy way I like but she warms up quickly as I take her by the hand and her very high heels click clack on the wet pavement from a light rain.
The night and the moon both observe silently.
The dark passenger feels completely absent.
I sigh inside and feel content.
These are the pleasant moments before all that will inexorably follow later.
After eating, we head to a cool bar I recently found and had been planning to take a girl to ASAP. We mix between conversation and people watching other couples on dates, betting if they've had sex and what number date they're on.
She drapes her legs across mine and we relax until we head to another venue. Some single girls check me out each time they go outside to smoke but I barely notice. She asks me about fighting (they always do) and the talk segues and meanders across whatever comes up. It's not forced but two people simply interested in one another, finding out in an unrushed fashion. Time seems to slide by and fade and I have a hard time sensing how long we've been there.
There's a show taking place so we end up at a gay bar. A guy with ****** piercings tells her we're a cute couple and we look good together.
Another guy tells her the same.
We're sitting on a couch and she straddles me whilst we make out.
We head back to my place and she asks if she can sleep for a bit on my futon.
I tell her not to be ridiculous, take her by the hand, and lead her upstairs.
We don't have sex but it's fine.
I take my time and right now the anticipation is enough to keep me interested.
I don't press the interaction for it.
It is late in the night and I want to take my time with this girl.
This isn't going to be 15 min's speed sex.
I want to devour her.
I sleep the strangely resltess and unfitful sleep of knowing I have to be up early, with a new girl in my bed to gloss over a cold, dreary, overcast, blustery morning....I don't know if I don't dream b/c this is the first time I've slept with a girl in this bed since my marriage ended or if it's some other environmental factor/stimuli.
She's lithe and petite and fragile and I like the way her touch feels on my skin. There's a thoughtfulness to her nature that strikes the chords of my being as genuine.
For the time being, I bask in the pretty lies and the possibility and the perfection that is attraction and lust untainted by the heartache I know looms on the horizon as it always does.
I'm reminded of Tron Legacy when Jeff Bridges' character climactically faces CLU and tells him that "perfection is all around. It's right here in front of us. It always has been. You couldn't know that because I didn't know that when I programmed you. I'm sorry."
My eyes open as they must to a cold, early morning....but I turn and see dark hair sticking out from underneath the covers, I pull her close to me, kiss her shoulder and she sighs pressing into me.
For a time....I almost feel complete.
Life and experience have taught me these moments are fleeting at best. Fire in your hand, sand through the hourglass, the tigher you squeeze the faster they disappear.
Armed with this knowledge it grows all the more precious.
This is
"It's a man's world but it wouldn't be nothing without a woman."
The cold morning light falling across a girl's dark hair, buried deep underneath the covers, sleeping softly.
I sip my coffee and drive to work as my mind's eye feels her soft touch on my face.
I remember her commenting on my **** eyes. They always do.
I say to her wordlessly, "disappear here" as she loses herself in my eyes.

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