Let me tell you about the only person (besides, family) I've ever truly loved.
Let's call Her Suzie.
I am standing in the rain, under the awning of a bodega in Dumbo, Brooklyn. She is late and I'm on my third cigarette, determined to look nonchalant as I meet her. I wonder vaguely, as I always do, if I'll know it's her. You see, I meet people off the internet quite frequently, though this one has me in quite the knots. She is beautiful, and I'm not sure if more on the outside or in, and that's what makes me so nervous. Anxious, more like.
I see her just as she's advancing on me, as I've not been looking up and down the streets but leaning against the wall, intent on the rain and the gutters and the cobblestone and my shoes- anything but to be looking for her. She's wearing tall boots with square heals and toes, leggings, loose shirt, long pea coat... hat, umbrella. All black. I feel her coming and her smile when I raise my eyes to meet her's is radiant, and she barely stops to link arms with me and then we're on down the sidewalk, matching strides and sharing her black umbrella.
Of course, I have no idea what I was wearing, but I am too cool for an umbrella.
Fast forward hours later. After coffee and guacamole and much talking, we come back to find my car is gone.
Did I park too close to that fire hydrant on purpose?
She invites me to spend the night with her. We walk and get a bottle of wine. Eat icecream in the cold. I open the bottle with a screw found in the cubby-hole of a room she's staying in. We are quite entertained by my dedication and I have yet to really live it down, though we barely speak of those days anymore.
It is easy. We talk of our pasts, we talk of our futures. We talk of love and loss. I take my most favorite picture of her that night and we sleep with arms draped over eachother and wake in eachother's eyes. It is innocent, but more than friendly.
On our way to pick my car up from the pound we talked a lot, nor did we ever really stop talking, actually - but I remember talking about the Universe and Desire. That speaking of your want from it, will yield those same results. That words and intent have power.
I remember feeling I wanted her in my life forever, whatever that meant...