Someone

I can still see the orange glow of the streetlight on your face, the way it painted the expression you wore that night. I can still see the green cast on my legs, turning them into otherworldly beings only meant for you to touch. I remember the way we limped up the path together, knowing that something special was going to happen, something real.

We sat down on the cool metal surfaces that lived there, and looked into each other’s eyes. I remember us conversing, talking, but I remember little of what was said, because it was then that you asked to kiss me. I did not respond, instead I continued speaking of the small town I grew up in, the games I played as a child, the color of my first bicycle---and then again, you made your move and planted a sickly sweet, tart, bitter, lovely, wonderful, complicated, salty kiss on my half-open lips. Right then and there I knew one thing, there was no turning back. I was yours and you were mine.

Something translated between us when we kissed, something strange, perhaps paranormal. We would speak to each other in motions, movements---instead of words. I understood you completely, and you me. For the first time in my life, I was fully confident that I knew someone through and through, and was comfortable with the fact that you could read me like a book.
I had finally found someone.