# 03 It happened

Love is what it’s all about Part 1.

When we started our relationship we were two adults. She was in the beginning of her thirties, I was at the end of my thirties. We were two grown-ups who unexpectedly found each other.

We were out for a night. A wild card. A shot in the dark. An evening and a night out, that could turn out as an ordinary night out in the city. Or that could result in a moment of surprise, a savagery, a wild adventure, a night of ferocity, fury and intoxication.

She and I, we were two strangers, a woman and a man who jumped into it. We ran into something that could turn out to be nothing at all. Or something which would turn out to last for many, many years. A life project.

I had a few beers. I was standing at the counter. The music was low. People were standing in small groups, talking. A majority of females, many of them young, but not too young. Many of them pretty, sympathetic, as I saw them.

I noticed a woman in a white dress, about as tall as myself, long, blond hair to the shoulders. I began thinking of approaching her.

Then I caught eye of her. I saw her standing there, talking with someone. I suddenly felt lifted, high. I approached her. I asked.

Then I waited for her to be ready. It happened. Our eyes met, I wanted to merge fingers.

At that moment I felt a wave of something soft inside. I felt a breeze of tenderness put up in me.

When she turned towards me I took her hand, carefully. I looked her in the eyes and I said my name. I noticed her hand was much smaller than mine, her fingers were like lassie’s fingers. There was no ring on her fingers.

From that moment we were close. We danced our way through that first night. Between the songs we held each other. First a light touch, body close to body. Then tightly, as we drifted deeper into it.

When the music stopped, we held hands and walked together off the floor. We talked, but I cannot recall what she said, or what I said. Time had stopped, we were deep into it, and I knew it all to well: This is it, this is what I have been longing for.

She had told me that she lived in a house in the southern part of the city, which was the opposite of where I lived. She had her car parked a few blocks away from the dancing. When we came out on the street, we both hesitated. Then we walked together for a little while. Then I grabbed her hand. She stopped, she turned towards me.

“You!” I said, “you haven’t told me your name!”

She looked up at me. She smiled, she told me her first name. I told her mine.

“So,” I said. “When do we meet again?”

There was a short silence, I was a little anxious about her answer, so I jumped into it:

“We can meet tomorrow in the afternoon, okay? For a cup of coffee and a chat?”

Her answer got the heart to sink, almost stop. I felt frozen inside.

“Sorry I can’t. That’s not possible.”

“Oh, so?”

I was completely overrun. Had I misinterpreted something? She was not interested in seeing me again?

“But maybe,” she said, “maybe on Thursday afternoon.”

“Yes.”

“You see, I am pretty occupied next week. And tomorrow is Sunday, I am taken all day.”

II felt a mountain was lifted from my shoulders. I could breathe again.

When we reached her parked car she turned towards me and smiled. I bent and let my lips meet her cheek.

“Good night,” I whispered. “Thank you for this.”

“Good night,” she replied. “See you.”

I was thinking of it as I walked through the streets to find the bus which should take me home to the address where I lived.

I was too late. The last bus was gone. I had to walk all the way. More than an hour of walk in the night.

I had time to think. I had the occasion to sense my feelings, as I slowly became sober, as I step by step could let what had occurred enter my mind.

I had lived a peak moment, an exceptional night in my life. I was blinded by the light in the night. I was blinded by the brightness that radiated from her.

I believe she was blinded too, by the light that came towards her from me.

The next day, as I woke up, I thought more about her, about our meeting. Had I dreamt it? This unexpected meeting that seemed to result in more than. everything I ever had imagined and longed for.

We were two grown-ups who had waited for years for this to happen. This meeting, this magical rendezvous we both had been hoping and waiting for.

Thank you for reading!

This is a chapter in a novel I am publishing here on Medium, work title Love is what it’s all about. Writing a novel (online or in a traditional way) is a rather lonely task. I would very much appreciate your response. Comments are welcome!

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