It was the moment on the bus that I remember most. I’d seen you so many times, hurrying to get to the bus stop, your hand out to signal the driver, that look in your eyes, of ‘Oh this is another morning I’d rather be in bed’, the one so many of us had first thing in the morning.
It took me several weeks to gather the courage to ask you out. You were I’d determined well out of my league, I could see all my mates saying to me that I’d be punching well above my weight should I score a date with you.
Then one morning the bus was full, we were stuffed in like sardines, and on a work morning it was the last thing any of us were wanting, the smell of perfumes up our noses, the aromas of aftershaves that left a lot to be desired.
Pressed together as we were I was surprised to find you sheltering beneath my arm. It was at this moment that my mouth took charge of my life. It began by complaining about the tight fit, and then moved on to asking you for a drink.
My stop arrived and we stepped off the bus, you heading in the opposite direction to me. I think I heard right that you would have a drink with me. We agreed on seven, at the Hope Bar.
My day was a flurry of confused thoughts. What had happened? Did she really say yes? What would I wear? More importantly what would I say?
Maybe I thought you would not show, as it had been confusing on the bus, maybe you’d that said something you regretted and so would not appear.
I was there at seven. So were you. We greeted, we introduced ourselves.
We chatted, at first, you telling me about your work, your place that you wanted to do up, your home and the fact that your last boyfriend had hit you.
You sensed my shyness because you began by asking me questions. You listened your eyes focused on me, I felt you there with me, in the moment.
Time flew and I knew it was getting late, as there were not many left in the bar. We had not paused long enough to eat and by the time we realised it was past the time the kitchen was operating.
You said you were starving and suggested I go with you to your place. It was near by and I seemed a good idea.
Out in the street you walked close by me, your arm brushed against mine as we walked along, your hand slipped into mine. It felt good, your hand, in mine.
At your place our conversation continued. We ate some cheese and bickies, you opened a bottle of wine, and we were soon engrossed in each other.
As it neared a very late hour I made the suggestion that we meet again, that I had enjoyed this evening, I was certainly feeling a very strong attraction towards you.
I made for the door, retrieved my jacket and turned to say farewell. You were there, so close, your eyes again focused on me. You reached up and kissed me gently on the lips. I lingered not wanting that moment to end; I took your face in my hands and returned the kiss, which you received happily.
Your arms were around me, I could feel my knees beginning to weaken, and the attention you gave me was unprecedented.
I awoke the next morning to find you asleep, the soft purring of your breathing, captivating me, holding me entranced as I watched you sleep. This moment has stayed with me all these years; I shall never forget that evening/morning.
It was the start of a love that has lasted all these years. We bask in the glow of each other’s love, we have encountered each other’s demons, we have celebrated the milestones of our love, today all these years later, I still awaken each morning to watch you breath. I still have the smile of a lucky man when you open your eyes, reaching out to draw me in, reaffirming as we do the commitment we made to each other, on that first morning I watched you awaken.