Ten Years After – The Conclusion of the Class Reunion Dilemma

She smiled, flirtatiously stalling while mentally calculating

Again and again, running through the lists of faces and names

Yet the mere sight of him derailed her thoughts

“Theresa…right?” The crackle still evident and still genuine

Another wave of heat surged across her entire existence

Absolutely certain she was blushing uncontrollably until at last,

“Yes,” she finally stammered, and extended her hand

 

He reached out with the grace of someone accustomed to luxury

Likely in another lifetime he was a Lord or perhaps a Knight

And as he touched her fingertips, electricity flowed freely

Not the shocking kind, that would cause her to recoil

But a more powerful blend, that pulled you in and held you tightly

And for a moment in time, she was truly captivated

Her entire existence suddenly and mercifully put on hold

 

And when he bowed, ever so slightly, she nearly collapsed

His head dipping just enough to softly kiss her extended hand

While his eyes; those deep dark brown eyes, never wavered

They stayed locked in an endless stare of mutual connectivity

“May I,” he spoke; the chair across from her, his destination

She shook her head in the affirmative, still overcome with delight

No longer searching her memories for the boy of yesterday

 

The man of today saved her from further mental gymnastics

“Charles….actually, Charlie Stone, at your service,” he quipped lightly

“How English of him,” she thought, knowing that he was American

Never practiced at social sparring, she quickly realized she was trapped

And while a tiny voice inside her screamed over and over to lie

She abruptly blurred out that which was plaguing her for the moment

“How is it that you know me, but in good faith, I cannot remember you?”

 

“”Tis folly for a heart to be lost over time, for fearing rejection”

Her eyes grew larger at hearing her poetry spoken aloud by someone

“Especially when love fills the air with its fruitful fragrance,”

Tiny beads of perspiration formed upon her brow as he went on

“Embrace the sweetness of the moment; taste the berry, sip the wine,”

“And refuse to be the one who surrenders to nothing but refusal.”

Overcome by the way her words emerged so effortlessly

 

She put her hand to her mouth; every muscle tensed with anticipation

For the next moment; perhaps the moment of happening, as writers say

“I’m sorry,” he spoke, a mixture of embarrassment and confusion evident

As he began to rise, she found her voice, “wait…please…I’ve so many questions”

And he waited until she found her footing and the questions came

Jumbled at first, “how…when….who told you…never mind…Who are you again?”

“Charlie Stone, just another wallflower who lived life in the shadows”

 

“Twelfth grade literature, last row in the corner, of course I was much thinner”

She listened as he spoke of events a decade ago as if they had just occurred

How he had watched from the back row, collecting every memory of her

Inspired by her words, how he went on to become a writer, barely eating

But never allowing himself to end the perilous journey she inspired

Every day, oh so long ago, how he wanted to be that man of action

To bravely step forward, without fear of rejection, and sweep her off her feet

 

And yet, he only gathered pictures of her from behind and her poetry

On Graduation Day, he’d waited for her, an action plan firm in his head

“But you never showed,” he lamented; a touch of sadness in his voice

She felt the tears beginning to form, as she was overflowing with joy

“My father died…” she said without emotion. “We had a funeral to attend”

The words hit hard and he too felt the waves on unchecked emotions

“I’m so sorry,” he was the one stammering now, “I should have known”

 

“He was a drunk and treated us poorly; it was for the best,” she said

“I’ve let my life become smaller and smaller because he kept me afraid”

“I expected to once again miss seeing you; it’s the only reason I came.”

Two conversations, two lost souls, staring deep into waiting eyes

Words no longer necessary; secrets shared; longing hearts awakened

He rose, as did she, their eyes still linked, as he took her hand once again

And they danced, and he kissed her, and her poetry became her life…

 

Part I can be found here.

R J Schwartz
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R J Schwartz

I write about everything and sometimes nothing at all. I'm fascinated by old things, rusty things, abandoned places, or anywhere that a secret might be unearthed. I'm passionate about history and many of my pieces are anchored in one concept of time or another. I've always been a writer, dating back to my youth, but the last decade has been a time of growth for me. I'm continually pushing the limitations of vocabulary, syntax, and descriptive phrasing.

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