When he was safe and sound in Natalie's Bug I still felt out of sorts, knowing all the while how ridiculous it was to feel so nervous around a stranger. I thought about how little I was talking, why I wasn't talking, and was it a big deal that I wasn't talking? We travelled down highways until we were dropped at State Street to smell the sweet fresh air and feel the pavement under our soles. The leopard print pants held flirtation while my harem pants created compliments. Suddenly the pavement was before us and we had slipped easily, conversing about Sofia Coppola and m-o-v-i-e-s. We were talking. I had switched off the stranglehold my mind was held in and my tongue felt loose, we were swimming it was so easy. I noticed you stood next to me at the drum circle. I wondered if your questions were from a place of politeness; I hoped they weren't.
We stood, together, reading a book on fashion when it was collectively ~felt~. Funny how those things work. I spouted off facts on Commes des Garcons and Prada that held interest to me but had never before seen the light of day as you listened. We gave and took. You talked and I listened. We joked, back and forth, comfortable and nervous. My stomach hurt. I liked you.
The rest of the week was fantastic, full of wonderful feelings I hadn't felt since the seventh grade. I smirked even though I couldn't help but get swept away by it all- it was so cheesy, so cute, so 80's movie perfect. I was followed by a pervasive thought throughout, that this was the first time I had felt this way, that this was all new. Was it? Of course it was.
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