#04.03.14

March 4th

My father told me this the night before he left, he said, 'One day you'll fall in love and you won't even notice.' I ignored him because you know how he gets when he's on his fourth beer and he's looking around the kitchen like he doesn't know how he got there.

The next day when I woke up and he was gone, I wasn't surprised. I didn't know what he meant, though. Not until you. The fucked up thing is: he was right, I didn't notice. You weren't the one I thought about when I listened to songs on repeat or the one I had to stop myself texting back straight away.

You were the one who always answered your phone.

Then one night, as I was reaching for the back of your leather jacket as we were coming out of the pub, I let go of a breath because we were finally alone and I knew. I think you did too because you turned to me with a clumsy smile, our hips knocking together as you took a step closer. Or maybe you already knew, that's why you always answered your phone.

My father isn't right about much, but he was right about that because when you kissed me later, stepping on my toes as I reached for the lapels of your jacket, you tasted like the birthday cake I had when I was eleven.