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Torn Jeans and Tired Hearts

His eyes are deep set, dark as the wooden bar that lies between us, and his dirty blonde hair falls at his shoulders. He has traveled down dark and winding roads with his eyes wide open. Wisdom drips from his brow. I tell myself the curiosity will kill me. I can already feel it like a sharp knife slicing carefully deep into my heart.  I know I’m not strong enough for this but I want it. My soul is burning with an undeniable passion that I have kept buried deep.

 

The bar is damp and cold. I slide my hands down the icy bottle and stare while he stays focused on his thoughts. I close my eyes slowly in pained desperation. I touch the bottle to my lips as I grasp its neck tightly with three fingers. The cool brew douses the fire for just a moment as the passion inside builds. I open my eyes; a familiar song is playing on the jukebox. My body hurts more than ever at this very moment. I may burst into flames and scream at the top of my lungs. I try and forget with one deep breath.

 

He carries himself well. He hides nothing but seems so mysterious to me. How can one project so much confidence when he has walked down such tired roads? My heart is as broken as these old ceiling tiles above me, and his soul reminds me of one I once loved.  My mind has not been right since. My soul is tired. It has been a tired year since then. I ask myself when he caught my gaze. He moves closer now.

 

His jeans are ripped and worn and his flannel is torn just above his right breast pocket. A gentleman is behind those dark eyes. Every word he speaks slips so softly off of his tender lips. His strong presence is comforting. I feel his callused working hands as he brushes the hair from my neck. His gaze is soothing, like a sweet drug.

 

The bar is closing just as my heart begins to open. I hold back as I give him a jaded smile. It feels impossible to leave now. I try to tell him with my longing gaze because I just can’t find the words. He returns my gaze with compassion and begins to hold my face close to his. Everything begins to blur as my eyes drown in this sort of desperate sadness. His lips suddenly hit mine and my eyes immediately close, letting the hot tears I’ve been holding back run down my cheek. The world stands still. A constant burning flame replaces the fire inside. For a moment, I no longer want to scream. 

Told in the view of Lets Go On an Adventure: 

My boots are worn, and jeans torn from the long walk. I force myself to rest. I order a whiskey and get comfortable. Across the deep wooden bar that separates us, I see her. I instantly feel drawn in as if she has her own magnetic pull. I can sense something has left her torn. She catches my gaze briefly and I turn away undisturbed and lift my cool whiskey glass to my lips and stare straight ahead. With every drink I take, I can feel that magnetic pull getting stronger.

 

My thoughts turn inward for a moment and I reflect on what has brought me to this place in my life. I continue to examine whether it was my discontent, my hardheadedness, or my belief that there was always something bigger in the endless searching. In a way I feel stronger for it, though every experience has always left me feeling bare.

 

My gaze travels back to her. I am eager to strip the mystery that is lying behind those dark brown eyes. Her dirty blonde hair continues to glow under the dim light of the bar. She seems to be unaware of my examination, tightly gripping her icy beer bottle she sinks deeper into thought with every ounce that touches her chilled lips.

 

When I can no longer resist the pull, I slowly approach her. We exchange sweet smiles and welcome each other’s company. This internal battle has her torn so deeply I can see straight into her soul. I lean closer and brush her hair across her warm face.  We kiss intensely like we’ve been waiting for this over years. She can finally let go, and I’ve never felt so alive.  In that single moment I realize what I’ve been searching for. We are not alone. 

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