05/10/2009

Dark North Sea Looking Glass

Across the room eyes meet, just a moment lasting less than a few seconds. Both pair of eyes tell a story too intense to describe. The instant feeling of home, a smell of green is hanging in the air. One pair as dark as the North Sea the other blueish green. A second inside the other, a second more it is forgotten.

Another catches one's attention, eyes meet again, but the electricity is not present. Numbness and indifference is followed by interest in conversation. The ignition is not immediate, the spark lacking. The dark eyes walk by again, the warmth and red-glowing light shines through the air only evident to the two eyes meeting. Still no words other than introductions, and a friends' whisper that another pair of eyes are single and this is not the one they meant to introduce - where is he? Deep feeling of wanting to discard of everything just to meet, to hold, to get to know the dark eyes, fall into the ocean of that specific soul. An instant attraction, an instant knowing. Yet one does nothing, one is dragged away, one turn a shoulder to meet other eyes that say nothing. Even though one knows that those eyes are the only ones one wants to see.

Distant conversations, chit chat about nothing and everything. One continues without any loss, any regret, any longing or any dismay. Friendly eyes meet and one turns the corner to find the darkness there, smiling and open for the first time to proper conversation. Finally words replace the looking, relaxed and frank words with genuine interest take over for the eyes' attention to detail. Openness and laid back attitude fit the deepness of those dark ocean depths. In a few minutes both are as relaxed as old friends, and without thinking one pair invites the other back to the apartment. Then a few seconds pass as the dark eyes look a bit puzzled and the blueish green regains proper etiquette - friends will come too of course - the eyes have just met.

Suddenly one realises that it is an impossible situation for this to be a beginning, days later the dark eyes will be left behind and the green eyes will yet again look upon that other life. A need for control sets in, a need for distance and proper behaviour. One's focus shifts, yet the open soul cannot forget the darkness and depth of that electric pulse. The lightning is there, but one thinks it will go away.

On its own again the blueish green longs to know if the eyes felt the same, knew the same instant electricity just from the eyes' meeting. But one will probably never find out, one cannot wait for the unknown. Not this time, one will not have those eyes this time. Destiny is a bitch sometimes, but it is best this way. Longing across oceans is not good for anyone, not even when it is the North Sea.

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