I was living fast. My mind was running quick to the past and quick to the future. It was like looking out of a car window, allowing the passing cars- this time, the passing people with cigarettes and drinks in their hands be the escape- the kind of blur that allowed my mind to be anywhere but where I was. I was that fast. I was second- fastest.
He was living fast. He was one of the fast ones. He was the fastest actually. You could tell in the way he smiled he was already thinking about his next move. But he was present, he was so damn present it took me days to figure out why the hours we spent meeting each other made our kisses feel like they held years of knowing him.
I thought the night had already happened. I was standing outside against a tall planter giving my feet a break from being in heels all night. I was tired but my double take on him woke me up. He came out from around the corner with his sharp blue eyes, and red scruff. I always liked the idea of being with another red head, just like my parents.
Anyways, he came straight to me- too fast for me to have a single second to worry about a single thing. I remember he said I was good at asking questions. I could have told him he was good at slowing me down. We stood there outside talking for a long while- before he brought me inside to the bar.
His right hand found the small of my back, and my left hand found the back of his neck. My feet were still hurting, i couldn’t help but shift my weight from foot to foot as I stood there wrapped in him. His weight moved with mine. Together and briefly apart, slow and in-rhythm. I felt like we had done this before. How could someone so fast like him, make someone so fast like me feel like we were the only ones at that bar moving so slow.
You see we were so fast we moved through years together just in the moments he held my hand as he took me away from the bar and over to an open spot against the wall. Okay, so It didn’t feel like we were the only ones. I noticed people watching. And my friends watching for a moment. But he kissed me. And he kissed me again. And I kissed him again. Not out of crazy desire for the red-headed girl in the flowy black high waisted skirt, and black heels. And not out of crazy desire for the man with his blue eyes resting over his blue button-up and shiny black shoes. But out of comfort. I felt like he was mine. And I felt like I was his.
We escaped that night to find pizza together, but no places were open at 3 in the morning. So he took me to the porch of his hotel room and we fell asleep outside watching the sunrise. I woke up to my head heavy on his head heavy on my shoulder. And my arm weighing heavy over his arm weighing heavy wrapped across my waist.
There was something about our speed. The quickness in the both of us. We had raced through years of finding comfort and familiarity in someone in only a matter of hours. He was the fastest human on earth. And I’d like to believe I was the second fastest human on earth because of him. Because he had a way of slowing me down in only the fastest of ways.
You are the second-fastest human on earth. What is your relationship with the fastest human like? 9-24-15