Once a year

   As I woke up, the first feeling I got was that he was still there. And that was all I needed. I didn’t want to think about anything or anyone else. Having him there, next to me, was an achievement I couldn’t compare with anything else. It had all happened so fast that, for a moment during the night, I thought I was dreaming every single moment. And to be honest, I didn’t care. It was the best dream in the world, if that’s what it was, and I would try to spend as much time in it as I could, enjoying myself and being happy for once in a long time.

 The thing was, he had always seemed so distant, so elusive. But at the same time, He wasn’t a stranger to me; it wasn’t as if I had met him just last night, no. We had been acquaintances for a long time, having mutual friends and meeting in several parties and gatherings in the recent years. Yes, years. When I met him, he was different. Maybe it’s because I’m falling in love or something, but back then I didn’t noticed his physical beauty, nor his internal one. The only thing I saw was this very serious guy, rarely laughing at my jokes (and I joke a lot). The only thing he did was taking his girlfriend’s hand.

 Yes, I know. She was very beautiful to be honest, with her long black hair and big green eyes. I think they worked together or something. I haven’t got to the moment where I can feel comfortable asking about his past conquests. Maybe it’s too early to do that. But she was a nice girl and I have to say that the first time I saw them I liked her better than him. He was so cold, looked so boring and simple. Not my type of guy to be honest, so I just never got close enough to talk to him.

 The next year, we met again on a cocktail party. A mutual friend of ours happened to be an artist, a photographer and we were both invited to the inauguration of one of his exhibitions. To be honest, I had not planned to go. It wasn’t like he was my best friend or anything but another person I knew was going to be there and she told me there was going to be free alcohol and lots of cute guys to look at. As I had nothing better to do, I dressed with anything and left my home.

 There, I would meet again with him. The girl with the black hair had not come with her. In her place, there was a brunette, much shorter than him and with more personality in one nail that he apparently had in all of his body. She was looking at the pictures and telling jokes, making friends all over and being, for all intents and purposes, the life of the party. Again, I talked to her a lot and I laughed with pleasure because the woman was a riot. Yet again, he was very cold, standing always behind her like a stone bodyguard, just there to take care of her. Sometimes he looked somber and that was the first time I saw a glimpse of his beauty, his mysterious tone if you will.

 But just after that, I met someone somewhere else and I wouldn’t think of him for a whole year. I got myself in a very strange relationship, with a man that had a child. If there’s something stranger than that, I would like to know. It worked fine at the beginning, I have no complaints. His little girl was very nice and he was a great guy in bed, has to be said. But it all went to pieces when we were about to celebrate our first year together. I discovered he had been cheating on me for a couple of months. From then on, I have to say it; I have never trusted people very much. He looked like a great honest guy. He wasn’t and that took its toll on me.

 It was during that period of feeling like shit when I saw him again. But this time we weren’t in any party or nice cocktail event. No. I had decided to go out of my house to buy some groceries to the supermarket. It was one of these huge markets that sell everything. I was dressed a bit crazy, as I hadn’t even showered, but in those days I wasn’t taking to much attention on anything. Anyway, I met him by the frozen foods, when I was trying to reach for the only chicken lasagna left. Out of nowhere his taller self reached it out and gave it to me. To this day I remember that moment because when I looked at him, he was smiling.

 He told me he remembered me from some parties and that he had always thought I was funny. In my head, I doubted that. Not only because I wasn’t buying anything a man said but because he had never seemed amused by me in those parties. He had to be a great actor or something. To my surprise, he wasn’t an actor but a graphic designer and he had come to the supermarket to buy some cereal, which he loved. We talked for several hours there, in the aisles filled with kids persuading their parents to buy them some candy or older men looking at how the butcher did his job. In a very strange way, it was a very nice walk. Something had happened to him that changed him but I didn't dare to ask.

 At the end of that afternoon, we separated in the parking lot. We didn’t exchange any numbers or emails or anything. At least to me, that wasn’t a priority now and maybe he had felt that or he was in a similar place. The good thing was that I smiled all the way home. Somehow, I had finally seen directly to those beautiful eyes he had and I had taken a liking of them. His face was just there, on my mind, for many days after that. I regretted not asking for a number but maybe, and this was the most likely thing, he had just been nice. I was sensitive because of my breakup and making decisions was not the best idea.

 The days passed and I started working and living more normally. I even ran into my ex-boyfriend but all I could feel was disgust. Because there was no love to feel but he was still the person that had decided to lie to me, to make me feel worthless on purpose and I just couldn’t forgive that. He barely said hello but I didn’t care at all about what he said or how he said it. I just wanted to get over that time in my life and soon. So I just nodded and went on with my life. I had never seen him again and, honestly, I couldn’t care less about where or what he is doing. I think that is the right way to feel and I don’t regret a thing.

 However, I kept thinking about that beautiful guy, the guy with whom I talked nicely for what seemed know like just a moment. I wasn’t in love of course but I really wanted to see him again and find an explanation for what I felt every time I thought about him. So I just went for it, calling mutual friends, trying to get something about him. And then, one night, it hit me: Facebook. It was so obvious and yet I hadn’t thought of it. Why call people when they have their friend network for everyone to see? So I looked at the profile of the guy that had done the photography exhibition and browsed his friend’s list.

 His name was as beautiful as he was. I didn’t add him right away or anything. I was too nervous and it seemed like a very serious step to take. So I just bookmarked his profile and let everything be for a while. I finally told my friend, the one that had convinced me to go to the exhibition, about the guy and how much I thought about him and his stupid face. She was surprised and I was surprised that she was. She told me that, in her personal opinion, he wasn’t that special. She thought he had nice ears, which I found to be very funny, and that his eyes had a nice color, but that was it. She said he was too tall, too skinny and looked like a zombie.

 Somehow, I got mad at her. I didn’t screamed at her or anything but I wanted to. He wasn’t any of those things. So right after we met, I sent him the Facebook invite to be my friend. To my surprise, he accepted it just a few minutes afterwards. We started chatting and he seemed as nice as I had seen him on the supermarket. I checked some of his pictures and was glad that I could see that face for a longer while. As it was the end of the afternoon, he asked if we could meet to have a coffee and chat. Of course, I said yes.

 All of that happened about a year ago. We spent several months going out for coffee, watching movies together, having lunch and just chatting for hours on hours, no matter if that was on the phone, the computer or live. He was a nice person to be around and I could feel he was comfortable with me. At one point, he got to my place to watch a movie and he took his shoes right off, put them in the right place and sat on his favorite spot. He felt comfortable and one of those nights we felt like kissing but we didn’t.

 That happened another day, one he prepared with anticipation and that lead to this day. The day he planned started with a nice dinner, a great a fun chat and was followed, of course, by a movie. We held hands, kissed and never saw the end of that movie. We made love for hours and I have to say it was amazing. And now he’s there, breathing softly at my side and I’m already planning to serve him a big bowl of his favorite cereal, which I know from that time in the supermarket. But for now I’m just going to watch him closely, in silence, because I’ve just noticed I have fallen in love. It happens.