Love at First Sight...

It has been said before that love at first sight is nothing more than a myth, a fantasy. The delusional dreaming of an over romanticized mind. But after last night, I know this isn’t so.

There I was just walking along the platform waiting for the Q when a man who had no business being so damn beautiful pulled me out of my kindle for one fateful moment. This man, this nerdy Adonis, this silent but deadly creature and I locked eyes…and I knew.

In that moment, I knew we were meant to be together. Our silent conversation spoke words to make poets weep. Time so politely slowed as to allow us the enjoyment of exploring the mirrored desire in one another’s gaze. Not in smirks, not in smiles (though there were plenty of those, too), but in that electrified space between engaged eyes.

Deep down in the pit of my soul, I knew we would be married.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the next Queens bound Q train is approaching the station.” That has a nice ring to it, I thought. Yes, Queens Bound Q Train…our wedding song.

My heart caught as we stepped into the same car together. The tension once the door closed was palpable. Surely, the entire car knew of our love. Such a burning, passionate connection could do nothing less than fill the air with a nearly sexual charge. I could feel every beat of his racing heart through that unbroken gaze; feel the beats pounding away faster and faster. On the edge of my periphery, I could sense the uncomfortable shifts of passengers as they were affected by our overwhelming love tension, but the only shits I gave this night were for the two sparkling green pools of joy across the way. This can’t last forever, he seemed to say. I know that, I thought feverishly, but let’s enjoy this for now.

Bing, bong!

The train doors closed as I stood on the cold, lonely, bustling platform. I’ll wait for you, his eyes promised through the window of the car as the train rolled on, ripping my heart from my chest as it went. I knew his promise was empty. My one great love affair in this life cut short by the tyranny of public transport. It was all I could do to keep from crumbling into utter nothingness right then and there.

Never before could I recall a feeling of such insurmountable heartache. My heart felt so trampled, so crushed that even my tears were crying. The boiling saline sadness drops of 47 ½ dying suns escaped the fissure in my love muscle producing a cry so terribly anguished it could shake the foundations of the universe…and still I held my tears behind my weary eyes. My pain is my own, I thought to no one in particular.

The din managed to drown out my inner sobs as I made my way onto the uptown D. Drained from grief, I found a seat to mourn the loss of my love. A seat and final resting place on which to waste away. What more could I do now that my love had escaped me?

I raised my tired head from my hands and locked eyes with a beautiful man sitting across from me.

You know, I’ve heard it said that love at first sight is a myth, but after last night, I know this isn’t so.

So that’s something that’s been bouncing around in my head for a little while now. It’s still rough, but it may shape its way into a monologue some day.

Funnily enough, I felt inspired to finally post this bit of silliness because tonight, after a long day in the shop, I did get to make eyes with a really cute boy on the subway platform. After hopping on the local (and leaving him on the platform with a glance and a smile), I got off at the next stop to wait for the express. Just in case.

And there he was on that very same car. Still cute, too. Around three stops in, he used the influx of passengers to shift his way over to the seat next to me and say hello.

I got a name, he got a number, and we’ll see what there is to see. Not a bad way to end a work day at all, if I do say so myself.

And I do, for the record. Thank you, Universe!

Happy Monday Fun Day, my lovelies. Go manifest yourselves something wonderful.