Ever since I saw him again that is two days ago, I feel so little. To me he was always the bigger person. He was always the better person. Now seated close to him at his Studio, I notice the lines on his face when he smiles. It’s almost as if his smile is forced. He cannot laugh as he did two years ago to my stressed jokes. He is a different person. Still has the same unique taste in music, which I liked, and with it a self-made artist.
He is still a thinker and as deep as the ocean. That energy, is what drew me close to him back then and as we shared a meal at that Japanese restaurant, which he claimed he didn’t know existed, I found myself drawn again to the same depth. He mentioned that he had thought of me again not too long ago, when he visited his family and they had the same meal we did on our first date. I smiled and the fact that I gave him a discovery for our first meal after two years since we parted, painted a tint of hope and delight in my heart.
Before him was Harry the douchebag who had developed feelings for me after what had seemed to be a long struggle. To mark this occasion, he had suggested we go for a ride along which I had declined at first because the conversation was in the line of me going over to his.The next day when he mentioned that he could pick me up the sound of that was so nice that in a few minutes after my last lecture for the week, I had packed and had waited at the gate ready to be whisked away by his fast car.
The thrill of it all, not knowing the destination. After all, he was my Harry styles the one who owned a furnished apartment in town, while I was a college student living in a hostel. I could not wait to spend the weekend away from that environment. The end of our ride along; a club called signature.
Two minutes in, even before I had a chance to decide on what to order, Harry had snaked his way out to go and take a picture with the socialite who had arrived from Tanzania. (You know the shaved one who appears on the opening scene of Diamond’s video song, Salome). To realize later how that song tugged along so many hearts, known and unknown, Zari could’ve taken heart by knowing that she wasn’t the only one dealing with a Mobetto. But that’s not why I’m writing.
I remember seated “alone” in that club and having this thought; how does Rihanna find love in a hopeless place? A notion I was willing to explore came to mind. I shifted my eyes towards the Dj, a young man proud of how his mixology pulled both men and women at his workplace and I told myself it’s always best to start with the handy men or what symbolized the engineering department, before I settled down to social sciences, (where everyone was).
However, due to the many people flocking in and out of his cube to make special requests they would like to entice their lovers with, I could not keep my focus. So I shifted my eyes towards the counter, where you could say was the human resources because of how fast anyone who seemed single was recruited.
In front of me was a woman who was busy gyrating her hips and flirtatiously holding a young man seated close to her. The multitasking man seemed to engage in a light conversation with an Asian guy seated on his right as he sipped his beer. And because he faced the counter and I sat at 8 0’clock that is almost behind him, I could only make out the back of his head and a little of his profile. This woman’s sensual dance and big hind also fought for my attention and since she was tall and in heels, I could not see past her. I felt like I had the right to see the guy who felt entitled to all that real estate. It took a while before she shifted her stance. But just as I was about to give up and further my search in another department, she moved.
That is when I saw him. Instinctively, he raised his head and our eyes met. He didn’t look at me but past me, and with no expression at that, as if he could not see me: as though he was staring at a stranger.
Well technically, I was a stranger but never had I yearned to be more to someone than I did at that moment. He broke the glance and quickly went back to sipping his beer. From what I saw, I deduced the woman was too close for his comfort and it was hard for him to breathe. To remedy this and distribute the much oxygen I possessed his way, I stood up, walked past him, and then back again fixating my glance on him. Just brief enough to ensure that he could breathe. And to confirm he appreciated my gesture, his gaze met with mine again; with a devilish rugged look on his face that made me blush instantly. I smiled back at him, as I strutted aimlessly feeling his glance on my back.
I care to admit that I spent that night looking at him and throwing darts at the woman on his side countless times: abstractly. When I could not handle it anymore, I walked past him again in hopes that he could initiate the conversation or do something; but this time, I wore the expression of one who had not come to the club alone but with someone they truly gave a rats arse about.
“Can I call you sometime?” were the first words I heard, behind that voice I so yearned to know.
Don’t Miss the adventure. Thank you Next, CONTINUES as part 3 of this series.
Have you had a look at: The final encounter?