When You Lost Her

The first day you met, you caught her eye. She would continue to keep most of her focus on what she was doing prior but occasionally look for you in brief periods between. A natural blush would splash across her face when she liked what she saw.

There would be a moment in time where her gaze met yours. She would look down bashfully, then quickly back up again to see if your eyes would still meet with hers. A small, playful smile will creep across her face when she realized you were still there. This is when you found her.

In the days that came you would find yourself in the same place you saw her last, hoping to see her again. Her thoughts would occasionally drift to your face, and back to the other ideas that normally crossed: the shoes yet to be broken into, the paper yet to be written, the errands not yet ran. The next time you saw her, she hadn’t thought of you yet.

After that, she thought of you the rest of the night and into the next morning. When you talked, the conversation flowed. The topics jumped frequently, both you and her completely engaged. She will then challenge a topic you tell her about. The effort she pours into protecting and enforcing her point of view will cut you like a knife. Your response makes her question her sense of self, because the words you string together will be unexpected. Back and forth you go as if on a tennis court, sharing and growing. Time eludes you when you’re talking to each other. This is when you captivated her.

A few months have gone by, and you will still find yourself mesmerized by the curve of her cheek. More and more with time, the sight of her hair will mimic the sun with its sheen. You’ll pine for the hollows of her hip between your fingertips, her warm breath brushing your neck. The sound of her voice dancing in your ears.

The night you lay together for the first time, you will be a little nervous. But, you won’t let it show. Instead, you tilt her chin up to meet yours, slowly close your eyes, and press your lips into hers. She melts into you as you stroke her hair back, firmly grasping her scalp. Her hands make your body her playing grounds, trailing across every peak and valley with intent. Your body effortlessly led hers, and she willingly followed. This is when you hooked her.

Nearing the year’s mark, you can’t keep your hands off each other. Your bodies accustomed to the make of one another. Time spent away would grow to be foreign. This desire would quickly turn from craving to lust. Soon, all you will remember is the way you feel between her legs.

With time, you will forget small things. The milk she asked you to pick up on your way back, the meeting with her boss about that promotion, the question she asked you a second ago. You begin answering her texts less frequently. Days go by that you haven’t spoken to one another. She asks where you are, you tell her works tight. She asks what you’re doing, you tell her out with friends. She invites you over, you say you’re tired.

Your focus blurs, and her vision becomes more clear. This is when you hurt her.
In the final days, the distance becomes apparent, and efforts continuously unmatched. She reaches a point where she can no longer deny her instinct; you are continuously keeping her at arm’s length. She doesn’t know quite what’s happened, and she’s grown concerned. She keeps trying to find you, but to no avail. Now when she see’s you, she doesn’t think you see her back.

She finally gives in, and begins to put her walls back up again. She stops reaching out to you when she gets upset, stops thinking about you when she falls asleep, stops calling you when she has good news. She stops craving you at 2 pm, and stops missing you at 2 am. By the time you’ve come to your senses, looking to explain, she’s cleared her belongings.

You see her for the first time in a while. Her eyes no longer brightened when they met with yours. This is when you lost her.