well, that didn't work: an autobiography

c

he pulls me into him. our lips are millimeters away from touching. his eyes are on my lips and mine are on his. i feel his breath and a shiver runs from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. he smiles and backs away, and for the first time in my life, i am truly speechless.

i never knew i could get lost in eyes his color. his laugh is the one thing i never get sick of hearing. the only time i get a good night's rest is when his presence is on the other side of the phone. watching him smile is like watching the sunset over the waves of the ocean, you never want to look away. i feel safest in his embrace. his voice could soothe an angry bull in the middle of a matador waving a flag in its face. when he sings i feel like i'm being serenaded by frank sinatra. his touch, even the most innocent, lights a fire under my skin.

i look at him for a moment and i finally find words. "wow." is all i say. he winks at me. another shiver races down my spine.

i could get used to this.

—my jim halpert (n.s.)