One More Awkward Pause

I’m biding my time. Really.

I'm not looking for my first opening, but the best one, you see? The magic movie moment! I watch her eyes when she smiles, I catch that twinkle there, I almost lean in.

But no —

Relax.

She smiles, fidgets her fingers. I stammer, smile, try not to blush. She changes the subject, and soon we're relaxing again. My heart is a drum. My mind a race car barely staying on the track. One more awkward pause. Just one more. The slightest hint or opening is all I need.

I watch her mouth. I nearly tremble as she brushes her tongue across her lips then tosses back her hair with a savvy flick of one slender hand. God help me. I lean back, feigning masculine detachment. I'm all frogs and grasshoppers inside.

Go for it! Now! I think to myself. But no. It can't be now. Now is wrong.

Stay cool, bro.

She stops talking, clears her throat, uncrosses her legs, reaches for her ice water. I make a quick joke and she laughs, leaning toward and into me until her hair nearly brushes my knee. Her touch, her scent, her ... Oh, heaven guide me, it's all I can do to keep my hands to myself!

But I do. 

Now we're quiet again. Somewhere behind me, a clock ticks, louder now than it was when she sat down here. I'm holding on for that perfect moment. She would want it to be special. I know what I’m doing. I got this.

Across the room, a window view, and the city lights spreading out below. Ten storeys, in fact. I should throw myself out. Yeah. I should stand up, shake her hand, then run and leap right out the fucking window. What a daring move I'd make then: the explosion of glass, the cool evening air and then a crowd of faces and police sirens marking the spot of impact!

"You're so sweet," she tells me now, but I hear a distance in those words. Leaning away, she looks straight into me and directs the full force of her beauty at the man she thought I was. That hair, a shining silken waterfall. It drowned me. Those eyes, glimmering, dark jewels. They broke me. Her voice, her scent are ghosts that will stay to haunt me.

She's leaving.

Swooning into a low she'll never know, I manage a weak smile and watch her drift toward the door. She's just remembered another friend she was supposed to meet, so she must hurry, and sure I understand, even though it's 11 p.m. and I'm crumbling inside. But but but but ....

I'm waiting for the perfect moment, you see.

The door closes behind her. Instantly, the room feels darker. I lean back, feigning aloof sophistication, fooling nobody. I'm funny. I'm sweet. I'm alone.

Now I think I'll close my eyes, listen to that clock behind me, and suck on my own lips for a while.