Possibilities

You walk into the room and my blood rushes, my face flush, but I try to hold composure. Fireworks set off in my chest. I hold excitement just below my vocals. When I speak, it's subtle in my pitch. It's like trying to settle an orchestra before a performance when all I want to do is let it play. When you hears it, you'd realize how perfect our melodies mesh.

But you don't even know, and if you did, you wouldn't care. I can't make you happy. My music isn't the money making kind. It's the pure and untouched, the legendary Mozart, the romantic Mahler, impervious to time and cynicism.

You sit by me. I die. Taking every breath as my last, I make sure not to move too quickly. As if I were sitting next to a timid dove, I patently and carefully choose my moves. Every finger twitch, elbow rub, and couch budge are scrutinized to the last detail. I'm now more still than a garden statue. You adjust and move a hair closer to me. Panic pounds my heart faster when I realize we'll soon be touching after one more casual adjustment. And without warning, we touch. We are sitting on the couch, touching, your body to mine, with nothing between us but the clothes we have on.

My heart can't take anymore when I realize I haven't been breathing. Once oxygen reaches my brain, I see how childish I'v become in just minutes. I try to shake of these feelings by trying to remember how I couldn't make you happy, how I'm inept and inferior to so many better suitors. I'm doing such a good job of reminding myself that I don't notice your hand touching mine. I want it so badly to be intentional but my heart won't let me believe. Every heart has a safety net that will only let you long for something so hard until you let it go. That feeling, of letting go, it's like your body becomes liquid and your limbs don't belong to you anymore. The black hole in your stomach just seems to grow and the room starts to spin.

And when your finger slid over mine as subtle as I was trying to be, I was terrified and overwhelmed with joy. After your pinky came your ring finger and like a cascade, your hand was on mine. You knew and I knew. Without words. I could feel your heart racing through your fingers. You were as terrified as I was. The only thing that made us sane was that we were terrified together. In that moment, anything is possible. It's like finding out you have the ability to fly when all your life you've been afraid of heights.