I am walking home, enjoying a little buzz from the cider I'm not used to drinking, and beside me is a man who, in less than a minute, will utterly surprise me by kissing me goodnight. When he does, he will put his hand not on the small of my back, where they usually put their hands, but on the curve of my bum, just low enough to tug at a piece of me that is usually quite well hidden.
The next day I will spend countless minutes during the day remembering the feel of him--the energy that spills off of him in palpable waves when he twitches one eyebrow at me and whispers "I'm hungry," before kissing his way in a slide of colours down my stomach. I will tuck that feeling up against me and use it as an affirmation of the ability of two human beings to connect. Later I will wonder if it is possible for us to keep connecting this way, and I will ask him, and together we will decide to take it dinosaur exhibit by afternoon spent reading in silence.
For now, though, I am walking home....and the buzz from the cider is just as much a buzz of hope, and I am very alive.