I resumed my place next to her. There are opposing points to going to the watercloset: I'd rather not loose any time with her if at all humanly possible. Contrariwise, there is just something about how good it feels to come back to my seat knowing that I'm the one sitting next to her. It's nothing like sitting on a train, where you don't know the person next to you, and you'd rather not touch them if you could because that would be awkward and somewhat embarrassing. But to know that you belong there....
I resume my place next to her.
We are watching some television show. It may be Airwolf, it may be Gilmore Girls. I don't remember. We both enjoyed watching it. Maybe Lorelai was chatting up Stringfellow, who knows? I turn my head toward her to see if she is crying or some other similar emotion. Se isn't....yet. But I can tell that she expects me to chat her up some. She may even expect it to be how Lorelai chats up Luke. But I know that it won't. It never will be, I'm just not like Lorelai. I'm more like Rory than she can ever know.
She turns her beautiful face towards me.
As her eyes search my features, I can see only glaciers. Ice cold glaciers. I look into her eyes...deeper and deeper, search for anything that can explain how something so beautiful can be put in something so flawed as a human. I see nothing yet but a small spark. Perhaps it is her soul? The Jews believe that it's possible to see one's soul in the eyes. Maybe it's an attraction in her eyes that I see? At this point, the house could fall in around me and I wouldn't notice. And the spark grows into a flame. It builds larger and larger into a fire. A fire dancing on the cold surface of ice glaciers, what a sight it makes. I find it to be even more attractive than Bella to either Edward or Jacob.
I can feel my eyes. Plain green, there is nothing distinguishing about them. They don't burn with desire, they don't smolder, smoke, or even give the tiniest puff. They're dead.
She turns back toward the TV, and I lay my arm around her to know that it just wasn't the time for me to try. She leans her head upon my shoulder, and with that simple act I can feel that I have been given all of the goodness and joy in life.
She smiles and purrs like a cat. Life is indeed good.
If only it weren't a dream.
