Take me out. Take me out to some trendy wine bar, where we can sit at a table in the corner and stare into each other’s eyes nervously. We can sit and let the reality of being near to each other sink in.
Two people who know each other so well, finally in the same room, going through that awkward first meeting. Asking each other questions we already know the answer to. Reminding each other of things we once wrote, but had forgotten about. Feeling slightly embarrassed about the words we penned, the feelings we shared, when we were writing to someone we thought we would never ever meet.
I wonder how long it will be before our hands touch. Fingers playing with fingers, an explosion of delicate feelings within – fears, hopes, excitement, surrender. Neither of us wanting to do anything to ruin the romance. Wanting to keep our friendship sacred. Yet the desires, the emotions, the yearning that is so deep, so entrenched.
In my mind, I cannot move the fantasy past the first date. I cannot do it. Because it becomes a steamy, sweaty, raunchy, intense love making scene. It becomes wanton and greedy. How would we respect each other after that?
The two of us need to be able to rest in each other’s arms and feel safe and loved always.