Archive

stories of romance

i.

i think i’m sad.

i met someone tonight. someone strange and all too familiar. i was impressed by the way you approached me and i was a little stunned by the way you acted. “i have a bottle of hennessy” and the whole time i watched the way you flipped the bottle around in your hand and the way you cusped my hand in yours when i shook your hand. i watch people hands and i like the way you express yours. and oh god, the second you came up to me, your two friends were grabbing you away from me, and you were fighting them away, and i was chuckling. they pulled you away and maybe gave you a brief pep talk i’m not sure, but you came right back with just as much firepower. and you are creating a scene and everybody has their head turned at the way you have your arm out but i refuse to grab it. my god i think i am blushing so much it’s not longer the heat, but thank god for dim lights at bars.

i think it was ten minutes in before i learned your name, which you hadn’t told me but i had asked. and i wouldn’t have asked if i wasn’t interested.

“you’re the type of girl that knows how to have a good time”

but i am sober and sipping a cup of champagne but i guess the way i’m double fisting beer and champage gives it away. and i am sitting with people i barely know and i am just here for the birthday girl, surrounded by twenty people i barely know by name, but just by proximity.

“i have to drive home, so i can’t drink”
“but if you weren’t, you would finish this with me”

i look at you inquisitively, unsure as to
what i am feeling

/

“here. if i get twelve guys, will you get up and dance. the dance floor is empty but i know you can get it started.”

and how did you know that. how did you know i bounce to an empty dance floor and do the macarana or the sprinkler or the lawn mower because i believe in being silly. and so i signal you that i’m not interested, and all these strangers around me are asking if i need help and i say i’m fine, i’m fine, i’m used to it. but i’m not, because i’m a little flustered.

and i say “if i want to go to dance. i’ll dance based on my call. not yours” and you laugh, you laugh at how sassy i am. and god i am so drawn to your smile. why is it so childlike. why is it so genuine.

why are you
so real

and you bring up each guy one by one, “i couldn’t get twelve, but here’s three” and i don’t know how i have this connection with you, but every time one of your friends comes up to introduce themselves, i shoot a look at you, hinting “really, are you really”

and to every friend of yours, i start with, “he brought you here, didn’t he” and they say no, but i’m smarter than that. what am i? some girl who you are trying to sway so you let your friends each have a turn with me. but i see you from the corner of my eye talking to your friends and pointing at me before they approach me. your intentions are so innocent.

ii.

and i am outside with a friend i just met tonight smoking a cigarette and i hear some boys holler at a girl walking right past us, and i turn to my right, and it’s you and your friends. and i stare at you again from a distance away but i know you can feel the glare and i can feel your chuckle.

“you do not treat girls like that! what are you doing?!”
“but i was nice to you, and it didn’t work, and i’m not usually like that with girls as i was with you”

i’m blushing again.

i am smoking my cigarette trying to play off that i don’t care but oh i do so much and i can tell by the way my head leans towards you. my best friend tells me i have a heart as cold as norway when it comes to boys. it’s true. but then you approached me and i felt my heart cooling down.

“what’s your last name?” you ask
“if you want to know my ethnicity, just ask” and so you do.

“i’m chinese”

and you blush. oh god, f i n a l l y. i’m just not the only one. and you begin to talk in fragmented chinese and it’s the
cutest thing
i’ve heard in a while

i am helping you complete your sentences and i can tell
that you are sobering up

sober love is a strange thing
isn’t it
at least it’s not just
me anymore

we are talking about how you lived in china for three years
but it became too expensive
and you are asking where i am from and i say
new york—

but my friend is finished with her cigarette and she is pulling me by the hand back into the bar. and i am thinking of you, i know you by these few impressions and i hooked. how did you do that.

iii.

and i am leaving with the crowd and going to another bar and we are at a club, dancing. i love clubs, my oh my, they are my thing. bars aren’t. they’re too intimate. too much conversation. i just want to dance. and i am now. and my eyes are closed and my arms are up and i’m hugging and kissing the birthday girl. and i open my eyes and you
are
there
encompassing my whole vision

and my shoulders shrug, and i am so relieved to see you there because i was hoping san jose was enough of a fishbowl to run into you again. and your friend is trying to dance with me and you are to the side. and oh god that’s adorable, the way we have chemistry but you hand me off to your friend, even though i am darting my vision towards you, and half smiling but in the inside i’m completely melted.

but my friend’s boyfriend shoos you away. that’s what they keep doing and i want to tell them it’s okay but i can’t because you’re already gone. you’re already lost in the crowd.

and i am leaving the bar and i am walking to my car and i hope to run into you. i hope to see you with your big smile and unbuttoned shirt and hear your whimsical words but i don’t. i don’t and now i’m here, home, writing this.

iv.

i’ve already made a story out of you and you’ve already had an imprint in my life and all i wanted was to hug you. i’m silly, aren’t i. but i’m the type of person that can spy chemistry in a blink and i think you knew that part of me. i’m sad because i wish i gave you my number. and i don’t ever want to give away my number. but the chances didn’t work in our favor and the night moved on before i could take a pause. and i’m the type of girl that’s always moving too fast, too much in the future, in my own head, but then i saw you and wanted to be here. savor the moment with you. and i wanted to stroke your cheek with my hands and tell you that i like the way you stand gently next to me enough so that our shoulders rub against each other. and kiss you.

i know that
although i have good intentions, my kisses
can be poison because i kiss boys
who i don’t fall for and this is a habit
i grew out of
and i also
grew up
and know that there is more to life
than kisses

but i
want to kiss you

(june 29 2013)

i walk over to you and tap your shoulder and you turn with the smile you’ve always had, the same soft hands you’ve always had. and i ask you if you’d like a drink and we leave the porch to go inside to get a drink. and i feel nineteen again. i like the way my name feels safe in your mouth. “lucie, lucie, lucie/ i love you/ i miss you/ you’ve always been so good to me/ you’re such a sweetheart” your voice rings like bells in the back of my heart. i miss those blue eyes of yours that are always locked onto me. and i can only sustain so much eye contact before i get nervous, and i purposefully look away. and i chuckle to myself and you wrap me in your arms as i laugh into your jacket.

“i can’t buy you a drink because i’m too poor!”
“it’s more than okay!”
“i can’t give you anything back…in drinks”
“is that a metaphor?”

and you laugh. because we both know what you meant.

“i’m so drunk i don’t need another drink anyway”
“you haven’t changed”
“some things never change, do they?”

and it was a metaphor for us, for how we always fall too much in love in the moment, but you knew that.

and that’s when you grab my face and kiss me. and i, and i, i interject it with my hand.

because you have a girlfriend
because you have a girlfriend

but i’m already neck-deep in these goosebumps
and my body is already leaning in
asking for more because i am always someone
that wants more

and the rest of the time i
held my hand in a cusp over my
lips so that your lips would not
find a way to mine, so that
i don’t jump up and kiss you

and you laugh at how silly i am
but that’s what makes us silly

but my god look at those blue eyes, the way you won’t divert your gaze from me. look at that smile, look at the way my body fits in yours. there is so much tension between us when we are just standing a few inches away. i want to kiss you, i always want to kiss you. i want to gently brush my hands through your blonde blonde hair.

you were faced towards the porch and i was faced towards the bar, but i noticed how sneaky you were, ever so once in a while switching your gaze between my eyes and the porch to make sure your girlfriend wasn’t walking over.

and i find myself in love with you all over again.
i am such a fool when i am with you, maybe because we are both such fools for each other. we’re children, aren’t we? children just wanting to be in love without real life getting in the way. but it always does. because we care. and that’s why we always separate, isn’t it? but the chemistry is always there, it always lights up the room the same way our eyes are glazed when staring into each other’s eyes. we’re always in our little worlds, aren’t we?

and then the rest of the group for the bar crawl comes from the porch and i feel you being washed away in the crowd. your girlfriend comes up to you and hugs you, but when i walk by, you’re eyeing me the whole time.

we’re not very good at this, are we? my god, your name on my phone. hearing your voice in such clarity. you could’ve called anyone, why did you call me?

my god those blue eyes, why do you do this to me. i’m not good with following rules, you aren’t either, maybe that’s why we’re so much like this. maybe we’re each other’s exceptions.

“catch you later?”
“when is that?”

i feel nineteen again and i want to do is sit on the sidewalk with you as you keep me warm and i babble about something obscene. i feel nineteen again because i’m thinking of how to send you a facebook message apologizing for our childish actions, but deep down inside, we’re always scared of hurting the person in the middle, never each other. we can’t do this anymore, we tell ourselves. and it always works. until it doesn’t. we’re always getting ourselves into trouble, we’re always so mischievous when together, aren’t we? that’s what happens when you put two romantics together— the rest of the world fades away and we run away in our own. but then reality knocks on our shoulder telling us the sun is going to rise in the morning and all the real life begins to settle in once again. my god how come i just can’t help myself when i’m with you. it feels like 2011. the air smells like the chilly atmosphere of the redwoods just outside my apartment sophomore year. i wish everything that accidentally rubbed against my skin was the touch of your fingertips. the corner of this table, a stranger’s shoulder, the side of a door.

i can’t
get enough of you
and i wish
i kissed you
back

i miss you
too
let’s go back to
laying on the floor
together and
arguing who
loves who more.