When I Met You

When you meet someone new and there's a spark. A small flame ignites and making a move seems like the most natural thing to do but there's fear. A small voice at the back of your head telling you that maybe, maybe they don't feel the same. They might not have felt that spark. There was no flame, no twinkle in your eyes when they met your gaze, no butterflies in their stomach every time you spoke. No feelings felt deep within them that reached out to them and told them that you were the one.

The one out of so many. The only one who could be anything to them, everything to them. Like you are, right now, to me. The butterflies in my stomach, fluttering, ties myself in knots thinking of you. I want to see you. I want to be around you. I want to be present in your comfort.

The calm after the tumultuous stage of courtship calls. If you could still be there after just a few months, after just a few years. I will be there after forever, feelings that were just like when we first met. The warmth envelopes me within a cocoon, encasing me in my thoughts, hopes, dreams, wants. All cavernous in their likeness of goal.

Snapping out of my thoughts that have run too far from the task at hand, phone number on a sheet of paper scribbled and it ended with your name. "Call me," you said.

I did.

Hello?