For Andrew

I haven’t showered because I can still smell him on me. It’s oddly comforting.
He had me the second he walked in my door. Those eyes. Those eyes that blast into your soul when directed at you, like you’re being hit by an invisible canon. He has the kind of stare that makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room. We locked eyes over and over again, from two seperate sections of the living room, until finally finding ourselves alone together in kitchen together, not quite sure how we had both made it there. So we talked. The words that were spoken were almost as intense as the eyes. We teased, we talked, we glared. We exchanged numbers.

Two days later, he called me; asked me out for a date for Thursday, so of course I gladly accepted.

Two days later, we go out. We have a blast. We go to the galivan center and watch some bluegrass concert, then we go to the bar and have some pizza and drinks, next is Vortex (clearly I already liked him enough to convince me to go to this place I never go). We all dress up in costumes for the “Halloween in July” party. Andrew says he loves Halloween so much he’d rather have Halloween on Christmas. My heart melts.
After I buy him a drink he gets so excited he grabs my waist and before I have time to even comprehend what he's doing our lips are locked. We share an amazing first kiss by the bar. After which, we can’t keep our hands off each other. We spend the rest of the night touching and kissing each other.
When we get back to my place we retreat to the bedroom and continue pawing at each other. He tells me I’m amazing and he can’t wait to see me again. Says he’ll call me tomorrow and kisses me goodnight.

One entire fucking week later, he finally calls. We get together and party. He constantly keeps apologizing for not calling me for so long. He admits it was to build suspense. --He already knows me too well.-- We continue to hit it off.

We spend an entire weekend in bed together. We take a drive through the canyon on his dad’s motorcycle. We make out in the rain. We cuddle and watch movies. We have lots of delicious sex. He tells me I look like Meg Ryan, and since he wants to be Jim Morrison, he calls me his Pam.

We talk about how we are basically perfect for each other, but since we are so much alike we will not care how perfect we are together and we will still just move on to someone else.
We discuss our distaste for liars and lying, and how your eyes are what truly tell whether or not you are lying. He tells me he can lie through his eyes, then he locks those beautiful eyes on mine, staring so intently it's almost frightening. After a moment of silence, still looking me directly in the eyes he boldly states that he loves me. He is truly an excellent liar. I decide from that point on to appreciate the words he says to me, but to always suspect that they are a big fat boldface lie.

~Summer, 2006