I met her at a music festival; I had no idea why I was there. Hippy music wasn't exactly my thing. Don't get me wrong, I love a good indie song now and then but I wasn't really looking forward to four days of it. My friends said I needed to loosen up, let out my wild side, be free. Just like the ticket they gave me so I had no chose but to go. We slept in a tent totally Spartan, I wasn't one for camping so the less time I had to spend cramped in a smelly tent with 3 other people the better. The first day was rather uneventful, we walked around, ate and listened to suburban kids turned anarchist sing about their feelings and cosmic energy. The night was warm and comforting as we were invited to another groups bond fire. Sitting around exchanging stories I had some fun , that is until the dancing started. I was and never will be a good dancer and I wouldn't know how to dance to the bongos and acoustic guitar being played if I wanted to. So I sat, smiling, tapping my foot to the music and laughed while my friends and strangers swayed and wiggled to the music. The girl, in a flowing rainbow dress, flowers stuck in the curly naps of her brown Afro danced my way. I stared for way longer than I should of, but she was too busy feeling the Music to notice. Soon though she did take notice of me, I tried to avoid her gaze, scared she would ask me to dance. She didn't ask, she just pulled me up from my log and took my hands. Interlocking our fingers as she moved us to the beat. I stared into her eyes, they were purple, I could see the outline of her contacts. To this Day I wonder how something so tacky looked beautiful on her. The song ended but blended into another, I was glad I didn't want our moment to end so soon. So we continued to dance, lost in our own world, where names , dancing abilities, musical taste or eye color didn't matter. It was just me and her. So lost in the song where we that we didn't notice the fight brewing a couple feet away. Brotherly love had given way to alcohol as a fight between two turned to four then six and soon there were so many fist flying it looked like a royal rumble. The music stopped, due to the bongo player being hit in the head, but we kept swaying, in the middle of all the chaos. Once a knife was pulled my friends quickly grabbed my wrist, pulling me away from her without even giving me a last look.
All night Laying in the tent I thought about her. How she smelled of weed and mangos and how she had both her nostrils pierced, something I had never seen before, how she made me feel safe, even though we knew nothing about each other.
The rest of the festival I spent looking her, her flower covers hair, her flowing rainbow dress , her purple eyes. Even know five years later sometimes I feel like I'm still looking, hoping that the girl with the purple eyes will pop up at the coffee shop or the book store. I even go to the festival ever year, and sway to the bongo's around the fire of people I don't know , hoping my eyes will meet with shiny purple ones.
