I met a girl about two weeks ago. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and she smells like cool water. Davidoff Cool Water, to be exact. I sprayed some of her perfume on my shirt this morning before leaving her apartment, just to freshen up a bit, and the scent has been on me all day. It smells heavenly.
We went out dancing last night, and had an amazing time. No one parties better than the gay boys. In her words, “In a lesbian bar, you could probably replace the alcohol with tea, and no one would know the difference.” Never a truer word been said.
Not so in a gay bar. Madonna, Fergie, and 80s music mixed with contemporary beats is the best music for a night of wild and crazy dancing. Gay boys were making out everywhere, gyrating, scoping out the scene, and red lights were flashing over disco lights.
She left this morning to see some friends in the East Bay, so she dropped me off at a BART station in the city before heading out. She gave me a kiss in the car before she drove away. It felt so intimate…like we were together already. It’s only been two hours since I saw her last, and I miss her already. She’s going on a trip for two weeks at the end of the upcoming week, and I already know I’m going to miss her. It’s hard when you like someone so much so soon, and you aren’t even sure if that level of affection is warranted. I don’t even want to date anyone else anymore…all I want is her. This hasn’t happened to me in a while – I’ve always enjoyed dating people casually, while not expecting too much.
It’s been about 3 months since my last relationship, and for the first time, I want to be in a relationship with someone else. I remember being at the bar with her that night while she was ordering drinks for us – my arms wrapped tightly around her from behind. I felt like she was mine. And she was, at least during that moment, and I felt like I was holding the most beautiful girl in the world.
I remember her stroking my leg while we were being hit on by a random straight man in the bar, and I remember feeling very safe, very loved, and very happy. I remember taking her arm and wrapping it around me from behind because I was cold walking through the streets of San Francisco, and I remember her holding me tight and not letting go.
I want to listen to jazz with her, and laugh with her, and watch romantic comedies on the couch with her while holding her tight. I want to smile and wrap my arms around her while she’s cooking in the kitchen. I want to hold her hand while walking around in the Castro. Or anywhere else for that matter. I’m scared. I don’t want to get hurt. But for once, it feels like this could be worth it.
