The Last First Date

The night draws to a close.
The air is cold and displays a constant reminder that my breathing is short and held. She continues idle conversation to give me more time to gather my nerves. My hands continue their impersonation of Niagara Falls in my pockets. I am running out of things to agree with her on. Her lips so soft, soft lips, so smooth. What did she just say? “Oh, jeez is that what time it is? I better get to bed”. “I’ll walk you to the door” she replies. Probably thinking to herself “god when is he going to man up?” I gaze at the door handle as it reminds me so of the eject lever I saw in the fighter jets when I was a boy up to no good in a museum. Now here I am without a parachute. I step out of the car to see my door ten steps from my feet. Before I can remember I quit smoking to get her on this date I had one hand with my zippo half open and the other at the bottom of a painfully empty pocket. She is already around the car and at my side flashing me an understanding smile, it lets me forget for a moment that I don’t have the nerve to kiss her. I want it, to feel her close to me, to taste her. For her to melt body and soul into my mouth. My fingers already imagining themselves running through her hair. There is a pause in out pointless discussion, my breathing stops the night does the same. I take a step forward and……