I met him in a daze of nerves and heat. The hottest summer I could remember, and in the capital there is no rest from it. The heat is exaserbated by the nerves which seem intent on reminding me my heart beats within my chest and my skin acquires a pulse to dance alongside my heart. He is customarily late, but only by a few minutes and oh so apologetic. And oh so handsome. And oh so perfect. I never thought I would look at someone and feel my stomach squirm at his presence. That is not to say I have never loved, but from the protective, almost freudianly maternal love I last felt, this love that makes me feel so anxious and young beneath his gaze, that it completely enthrals me. It scares me. The mental checks I have done everyday since I broke up with that horrid boyfriend when I was 19 have become more intensive, I sit and question myself everyday. When I see him, however, this all melts away in the gentle tide of his beauty, in the warmth of his smile, in his arms. It scares me, I almost cry when he talks off handily about a life with me, a future, and it all seems so surreal because I am not like this. I wonder when it will fade out to be normal with him, and he will take me for granted and I will sulk. Not yet. It hasn’t happened yet.
His hair is the colour of damp sand in sunlight, his eyes are like the pale sea at dawn. He is beautiful more than handsome, ordered and self conscious in his beauty. It contrasts against the chaotic nature of any beauty I personally hold, my hair never styled and rarely make up on my face. He is vain, but in his acceptance of his vanity it becomes a modest affliction, rather than annoyance. We go to pub off Notting hill, where I have not been apart from in the days of raucus carnival and the quiet strikes me as surreal, and beautiful, with the evening sun still beating on the silent streets. In the silent chatter of the post work pub I enter our world. A world I will become so familiar with, so comfortable yet always so safe. And there for the first time we say the words I am not yet tired of hearing. I love you. And I do. Simply, I love him. Simply, he loves me.
