Standing on the Edge
Do you believe in love at first sight? I don't. There may be some of you that disagree with me.
What in the world, Missy, the first time I laid eyes on my husband to be I just knew. I just had that feeling.!
Good for you! I'm sure it can happen that way. As for me, when I met my husband to be I met a man who, although very nice to look at, was just another guy.
We met through friends, and went out for a drive. I do remember that he was wearing shorts, and a jean jacket over a bare chest.
Hmmm, maybe that should've done it for me?
He did put a shirt on to drive around. He was the politest guy I'd ever gone out with. He asked me if I wanted something to drink or a snack, as we pulled into a gas station for gas. We went to Roosevelt Park in San Antonio, TX (where I lived at the time) and we sat on a picnic table and talked until 4:30 am.
As the memories file by, I wonder how it was that we were able to carry on a conversation. He spoke little English at the time, and yet the words and hand motions flowed through the night. He made me laugh, and his eyes as dark as ebony bore right through me. Still, I wasn't hooked.
I smile inside when I remember how he asked me if he could kiss me. Do you know many guys that ask that question? Up until that point, I never had. Little by little, I shuffled my way over to edge. I had lived most of my life planted in the center of wherever I was living.
Meeting a dark, handsome stranger when I moved to Texas had not been in the plans. Let alone a guy who lived on the dangerous West Side. With one foot teetering over the edge, I let myself fall. You know what actually made me fall in love with him? It wasn't the way he would pull a chair out for me to sit at a restaurant. Or the way he held my chin with one hand when he kissed me. In the end, it was the way his square, clean fingernails in his caramel brown hand held my much lighter hand.
We all have something that sends us over the edge. Some of us are afraid to fall.
March 25th we'll have been together for 23 years. If I hadn't inched my way toward the edge of the unknown, I would still be living in the center. Safe and sound, but untested in the world.
The lines that etch the corners of his eyes still flash the darkest ebony that can still hold me captive.
Love at first sight? No, but love at third or fourth sight -- yes. And even more today.
"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center." ~Kurt Vonnegut
What in the world, Missy, the first time I laid eyes on my husband to be I just knew. I just had that feeling.!
Good for you! I'm sure it can happen that way. As for me, when I met my husband to be I met a man who, although very nice to look at, was just another guy.
We met through friends, and went out for a drive. I do remember that he was wearing shorts, and a jean jacket over a bare chest.
Hmmm, maybe that should've done it for me?
He did put a shirt on to drive around. He was the politest guy I'd ever gone out with. He asked me if I wanted something to drink or a snack, as we pulled into a gas station for gas. We went to Roosevelt Park in San Antonio, TX (where I lived at the time) and we sat on a picnic table and talked until 4:30 am.
As the memories file by, I wonder how it was that we were able to carry on a conversation. He spoke little English at the time, and yet the words and hand motions flowed through the night. He made me laugh, and his eyes as dark as ebony bore right through me. Still, I wasn't hooked.
I smile inside when I remember how he asked me if he could kiss me. Do you know many guys that ask that question? Up until that point, I never had. Little by little, I shuffled my way over to edge. I had lived most of my life planted in the center of wherever I was living.
Meeting a dark, handsome stranger when I moved to Texas had not been in the plans. Let alone a guy who lived on the dangerous West Side. With one foot teetering over the edge, I let myself fall. You know what actually made me fall in love with him? It wasn't the way he would pull a chair out for me to sit at a restaurant. Or the way he held my chin with one hand when he kissed me. In the end, it was the way his square, clean fingernails in his caramel brown hand held my much lighter hand.
We all have something that sends us over the edge. Some of us are afraid to fall.
March 25th we'll have been together for 23 years. If I hadn't inched my way toward the edge of the unknown, I would still be living in the center. Safe and sound, but untested in the world.
The lines that etch the corners of his eyes still flash the darkest ebony that can still hold me captive.
"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center." ~Kurt Vonnegut
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