When our eyes met...

(whatever comes next is to be blamed on my dreams and Brokeback Mountain)

I remember seeing him, really seeing him for the first time, in a bar, surrounded by friends and strangers. We looked at each other and there it was. Not love at first sight, no, that came later and in a very different form from the usual. I saw in his beautiful eyes something I needed. I saw connection, understanding. I saw something that moved me, something that made me feel desire. I did love him later, but it never was the way I'd love someone I'd want as my partner. There wasn't that between us, that wasn't necessary. What it was about was finding moments to get away, private places, stolen moments when we were supposed to be somewhere else, with other people. I remember his hand on my back, just barely touching, making me feel such aching to feel him completely and all the while talking to someone, pretending it isn't happening.

It has been almost eleven years since that.

I've dreamed of him a few times on last couple of nights. It has made me smile. It has made me want to call him up and say hey, you've been missed.

But maybe I'll just keep it like it is, as a sweet memory of a man who understood me.