A Loss of Composure
A Loss of Composure
My God! She was beautiful. She stood, holding her arm across her chest. Her loose-fitting sweater hung on her body, soft and warm. Her legs were long and elegant in a pair of linen peg-pants, half hidden by the oversized sweater. I was transfixed, as I looked at her, with a surge of electricity coursing through my body, and the sensation of being completely alive. I’d forgotten what that felt like. Maybe I never really knew. But I did now.
“It was her eyes,” I thought. The long brown hair that framed her face, hiding just enough to suggest a need. A shy sadness. She was as beautiful a thing as I’d ever seen, and I was, unexpectedly, hopelessly infatuated, even though I didn’t have a clue who she was, leaving me almost speechless, as I approached her. I knew I needed to find my composure, and try not to sound like an idiot. What happened in that ten seconds, between just another day, and a sensation so unexpected—I can’t explain. All I knew is, I would’ve given everything to be with her?
Ten seconds. That’s all it took. That ten seconds would re-define the rest of my life.
As I came within a few feet, I stammered as I began to speak, my voice breaking like a 12-year-old boy in the throes of puberty. I tried to compensate, lowering it, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “Uh...I’m looking for the kid in this picture,” I said, sweating with every syllable that tumbled clumsily out of my mouth. “He’s been missing for a week. His mother hired me to find him….have you seen him?” I asked. But I could barely remember the kids name, or even why I was there, only that I was there. Looking at her. I would’ve gladly taken every cent I had in my wallet—in my damn bank account—just to stand there and look. I was lost, and trying hard not to show it.
I didn’t understand how she couldn’t see right thru me. At that moment, I was as naked as a man can be, and I hated it. The pounding in my chest, the ringing in my ears, they made me feel like I was dying, and hopefully, on my way to heaven.