I met him in the sparkle that is December. I noticed him the way I noticed every person I’d ever admired- from afar, at a party, staring off into the distance. He looked like every good dream I’d ever had. The first time we spoke, I noticed a twinkle in his eye that reflected a twinkle in mine that I thought had disappeared months ago.
He was tall with a deep voice. I imagined that everything he read out loud sounded like some sort of poetry. He handed me his business card and told me that he liked the way I smelled. Sometimes, you find yourself between an old heartbreak and being the best version of yourself, and you know that meeting someone new is the only thing that makes sense.
The day after we met, I walked around with his business card in the back pocket of my jeans. I looked at the card throughout the day, sliding my index finger over each letter of his name, wondering what I should say first. I kept getting the feeling that something good was coming. It made me feel different than the other dates I’d been on this year, which I could compare to performing on a stage only to get hit by tomatoes.
I thought about him almost every day before we met a week later. The weather was cold, and I’d been wearing too many layers, but something about our interaction made me feel warm.
I was late to our first date. An hour and a half late, but he waited for me. Drinks at The Bowery Hotel. A date there could either go really good or really bad because the people who hang out there can be put into those two categories. I didn’t feel nervous, which was unusual for me. I used to throw up on dates from anxiety, and now I look at them as chores to pass the time, but this was something else. I saw him the moment I entered the hotel. He was sitting on the edge of a couch and he stood up and smiled so big that I saw each of his pearls perfectly outlined in the candlelight.
We sat close as we got to know each other while drinking gin and tonics and eating jelly donuts. He told me about his favorite places to stay while traveling alone in Paris and how much he liked vanilla milkshakes and Nina Simone. Having a crush on him happened right away because he made me feel so comfortable. His eyes looked like lucky jade, as they never looked away, and I felt like I was under the spotlight of a stage I’d always wanted to be on.
We talked for nine hours between Manhattan and Brooklyn. Time flew by, which we both noticed because we had the same watch. I could hear the echo from our laughter of passing jokes as if they were being presented in a banquet hall where everything was marbled with gold.
He told me he needed to show me something outside, and when I went with him and asked what it was, he grabbed my shoulders and kissed me. I laughed, and I felt so much like myself.
His eyelashes caught the moon, but he already knew that. I saw myself inside his world, which was filled with singing out loud and long walks in the rain where the raindrops tasted like candy. He was like a bouquet covered in pollen that I got all over my nose and showed off to the world like it was some sort of prize.
I’ve thought about him like I’ve thought about my other favorite things. They consume me in the perfect way, making me feel like life is worth living a thousand more years if it could always be this much fun.
When you’re happy, the whole world is New York City. And everyone knows that there’s nothing like kissing in New York.