The 30th Jan 2010 WriteOnSite Winning Entry
Many people begin the stories of their lives together with 'our eyes met across a crowded room'. I have always thought that was ridiculous. Chances are they were looking at the person behind you, or worse still, looking for the bathroom, and they happened to meet your eye as their gaze roamed around the room.
But, I think it might have just happened to me.
I glance over my shoulder but I know it is just the wall behind me and the toilets are nowhere nearby. And still he is looking at me. I check to make sure my dress isn't tucked into my tights and casually make sure that there isn't anything on my face.
And still he is looking at me.
Our eyes meet now, locking onto each other with such force that I could not look away even if I wanted to. His eyes are blue, I can see that even from here. So vivid and piercing that I wonder that he does not have the whole room looking at him. I am sure his smile will be perfect and his hair carefully styled but his other features do not hold my attention as his eyes do. I wonder what he sees as he looks back at me.
There is a haze of noise as the countdown begins.
'Ten, nine...'
I did not want to come tonight. I hate New Year. It is one moment that holds so much promise that the thousands that make up the rest of the year cannot possibly live up to.
'Eight, seven...'
I have never met him before, of that I am certain. I hardly know anyone here, I was dragged along when a friend found out my only plan for the evening was to wallow, and possibly drown in a sea of wine and chocolate. And yet there is something in those eyes, some recognition, that were I to believe in such things I would say that we had known each other before.
'Six five...'
Voices grow louder, drinks are poured. And still he is looking at me.
'Four, three...'
One look. Can you live your life in ten seconds? In one look? I have never thought so. Now I am not so sure. We are edging closer to each other. I move through the crowd, barely even noticing they are there. Some part of me wants to stay exactly where I am, to simply stare into those fathomless eyes forever. To stay in that moment of untold possibility where he is perfect. Where he will not leave his socks on the floor or break my heart. But those eyes draw me closer.
'Two, one...'
Somewhere far beyond us there is an eruption of colour, balloons fall and streamers fly, as though they are paint splattered onto a canvas. There is an ocean of noise and movement and yet he stands on an island in the midst of it all. The current draws me in. There is only a few feet between us now and we both stop.
One look. You can live a lifetime in one look. And still he is looking at me.
Copyright © 2008 Rob Richardson. All Rights Reserved.