Speak. 

It had been one and a half weeks. It started at 6 in the morning with countless ideas to fill the day. Breakfast, Early bird movie plans and the mix. But yet who didn't love sleep? Especially when it was so terribly inviting after the hearty breakfast that called themselves, beans, toast, eggs, sausages and. Mcgriddles.  They met at 430 p.m. (Yes, they both slept) to have a day spent together.  After all, it had been one and a half weeks. 

He was late, a little later than she was and this was rare considering the track record but nothing had seemed to change.  She had called to ask where he was in the voice that still made him feel happy no matter what the circumstance. He knew she would flip if he tried to be humorous or a tad too funny than he should be, but he did it anyway. A playful response like kids would do when the other couldn't catch him/her. She would respond by. The traditional hang up that would equate to see you later so i can pinch your fat arm and smack your fat ass. 

She wouldn't know that he came by cab( oops ) because he couldn't decide which color pants to wear or how to style his hair when at the end, he wore the first pair of pants he picked, and well as for his hair, it was never any different. So then their eyes met when he turned to the corner coming down from the escalator and the conversations started. It had never been anything significant, or intellectual, it was just two people talking. Her hair was exactly what he missed it to be, let down with a clip or two, and her presence, exactly what took him away from himself moment to moment. So much so, that the boy could try to be cool and aloof, but still give in with the biggest smile in the world, like a fat boy would when he received the big cookie. That's what she did to him. Smile. It wasn't entirely the corny equation of love bringing happiness. It was just the innate existence of one being.  Her being. 

They had lunch that was barely reasonable by quality or price. They would still laugh about it and seek shopping as a solace but have nothing much to find. She'd have nothing much to buy despite the presence of cash, and he, well would be a little too fat to be trying on polo tees that he fancied. ( they were vintage = used = one piece ) They would have soup from one of those customary diners that didn't charge much for the yummy's they served. Conversations would go on from amusement parks, to the arts, to how fat he was and the things that mattered in their lives enough to bother them. After all, it had been one and a half weeks. 

And how would a couple not enjoy a good movie even if it was ass numbing and sometimes cold. The silence, the felt between the two in those seats and knowing they were there at the cinema together, sometimes having their fingers fill the gap of the spaces between the other's fingers or the momentary cling on the arms when something really funny happened. 

 

Then the lights came on. And the two got hungry again. It never bothered them how to get food, it was just a matter of where good food was. And well trust me, they had good food. The date was nothing out of the ordinary. Lunch that could have been better, shopping that could have been better, and a movie, that could never have been any better with its brilliance along with supper that even went home with the girl.  Maybe in many ways, space had separated the two to a place that was less comfortable or maybe comfortable in its own purest and most innocent ironies. But the date, in many ways itself as well, brought the two to a place where they could be comfortable. With each other.

Maybe one day, the space would be bigger, and the two would go their separate ways and im sure eventually finding what we call happiness. Or maybe the space would become a gap and that gap would close eventually with them finding what we call happiness together. But at that point in time, at every point in time that they were together and that it was real on that day at that time, did it matter? 

 

Because if you had never learnt to speak. Then probably, you had never begun to write. And if that is true, you have not lived a second of life to know what it means to feel.

I love you. 

6/02/2008 11:38:00 PM