her...

Let's just say I have a new respect for the little coffee shop on Minnetonka Blvd by the police station. I asked her to lunch because we needed to talk and our last conversation had left a foul taste in my mouth. I needed to tell her things. I needed to see her face instead of only hearing the cold metallic drone of her voice through my cell phone the day before. I was steadfast as I waited for her faded green Taurus to pull up outside my house. I was going to let her have it. Dump me will you?
I waited for her to pull up, and then I saw her face through the glass. Her small face framed with that golden hair falling well past her shoulders. I could feel the blood pumping through my heart and I knew that my logical brain would soon take a back seat. Hi I said. Where should we eat? I don't care, where do you want to eat?
I suggested the closest place where we could both agree on the menu. Before we had said ten words to each other she was eating her balsamic chicken salad and I was eating my turkey sandwich on pumpernickel. The food was bland, so I ate my sandwich slowly and felt the growling thunderstorm that was raging in my stomach.
But then i looked up and I met her eyes. Those eyes that captured me. I always want to look away but I drown in deep seas of understanding. Seas of mischief. Seas of desire. I can't look away, and she asks what I'm looking at. I can't summon the words to describe what I'm looking at and how it makes me feel, so I look down and pick at my sandwich.
How can I be so sure when she keeps pushing me away?
Are you sure we should be having this conversation over the phone? I ask her when she says what she has wanted to say all week. No, but I don't think we should have it in your bedroom either. So now we're in a coffee shop on Minnetonka Blvd. by the police station, and all I can think of is how her tight long-sleeve tshirt is curving so perfectly over her round breasts, and how her pants show off her ass so well. Why can't you talk to me in my room? Do I make you weak in the knees? No, you make me weak in other places..." She looks at me and raises one eyebrow. I lick my lips.I want her to feel lust towards me. It turns me on to know that she is turned on.
Nothing is set in stone. Flying by the seat of my pants is more interesting, but sometimes it is like a blip on a heart rate monitor. Everything is moving along smoothly, placidly. And suddenly violent turbulence rocks you up and down faster than you can blink. Some people are scared of a little turbulence. I enjoy it. It turns me on.
I still don't know where I'm going to wind up next year. But if you don't either, then it could be together.