It is so cliché when I say this but my heart flutters at the sound of your voice. It trembles ever so slightly within its confined spaces of my ribcage. And the more time we spend together, the louder the beating becomes. The beating of my heart shakes my lungs; I just can’t ignore these physiological symptoms.
And when you smile, touch my hair and embrace me in those strong arms, I realize the intensity of my feelings towards you. You don’t make it easy when you become that gentleman I only about read in Jane Austen novels. Without hesitation, you pay for the pitcher, cover fees and my bus fare home; you treat us to a beer and you give me four of your cigarettes in a very sweet way. You take my granola bar and I take a bite out of your beef patty. You call me kid and you’ve told me numerous times that I’m fun and that I’m “alright”. I love the way you avoid using words that say too much and stick to simple words which mean the world to me. You say not many people can make you genuinely laugh and I have the ability to. You have that look of innocence yet you know so much about this world, this life. You admit to your faults but you continue to move on. Your honesty moves me deeply and the way you have look at me keeps me hooked.
But what touches me most? I know you listen. I know because you have brought up things I had said in the past—things even I have forgotten. And it is scary to hear my own words come from your mouth. You are the gentleman I have been searching for. The one who does not look the part but whole-heartedly plays the part. Ironically, we both do not believe in the conventional but we are both attracted to each other—at least I believe so. You enjoy jazz, you listen to records and you write novels under a pseudonym on a typewriter. You are generous and kind.
I am hooked: hook, line and sinker.