Blind Date

At a tiny Mexican diner in Denver, in December, eight years ago

We ordered carnitas and barbacoa then sat down with our chaperone.

I sneaked a look at you while you spoke to our mutual friend, engaging and earnest.

I listened to your voice, steady, assured, familiar.

I studied your hands and the lines on your face.

And pretended to be distracted by the tacos.

Glad I wasn’t meeting you alone.

When you did address me you appeared quite curious, intense and responsive

You looked me directly in the eye as if I were a real person with real value,

Not just a pretty face

As if who I was mattered to who you were

As if you were looking for something in me that matched something in you

And finding it

I had deliberately chosen my look for our lunch,

A blatant blend of curves, color and who cares?

In case you weren’t impressed

I hadn’t gone all out for nothing.

Except, your attention wasn’t drawn to the assets I was playing up.

And down.

There was no hint of a predatory penchant-

I knew how to be the prey

And I did not know what to do with this, it felt all wrong.

While I fumbled in my awkwardness, my nerves jangled, but you wouldn’t stop.

I joked to set myself at ease while I wondered why you’d agreed to meet me,

So oblivious to my most obvious charms.

I felt like a child with no answer when the teacher calls on him

Embarrassed and humbled by not knowing what this was

And then as if by chance, your foot barely touched mine under the formica table.

It could have been a mistake, something to excuse ones’ self for, but you didn’t.

As you held that contact, I realized that you knew.

That you could see my fear, my hope, my wounded child,

My self-loathing, my inner Goddess, my song, my soul

You understood and offered me support

So I would not lose me again.

You held me steady with your gaze until I met you at that higher place

Where we are both human.

In that moment I saw myself through your eyes

In all my lovely, imperfect wholeness.

Your soul peeked back at me and shyly asked for acceptance.

I barely nodded.

You finally cracked a smile

My heart flipped.  The armor shifted

You’re not blind.

At least not to me.

©  Erika Boyer January 28, 2009

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