24 + 24

Standard

I watched these two people at my favorite diner last night; a new something of sorts, I could tell.

She was all smiles and starry-eyes and he only dropped his gaze from hers when he absolutely had to, or when she relieved him a little by glancing down at the tiny pool of black in her hands. I think she had three cups, but I wasn’t counting, I was too busy creeping on this duo.

They split everything, which was disgustingly sweet. I never noticed a lull in conversation, but my omelette was delivered at some point and I had to look away to make it seem like I was less of a psycho. My waitress came and refilled my coffee up and I stirred in my sugar and cream, watching the liquid swirl and change color. I let my thoughts drift to a specific time that I very rarely go a day without thinking about.

his eyes were the color of the darkest coffee, my favorite flavor, and all I did for 24 + 24 hours was drink, with an unquenchable thirst. I didn’t expect to feel such  hunger after a full meal and a few drinks but I did; I couldn’t get enough, I was insatiable. This man, an unexpected yet welcomed stranger in my life, was consuming me, flooding my thoughts with a delicious elixir I never knew existed. I assumed that we would sip drinks and spend the evening talking and eventually part ways; I never dreamed that we’d spend the better part of forty-eight hours together, non-stop talking, listening to jazz and lying around, absolutely weightless on a some sort of cloud that was only drifting us higher and further out.

time seemed suspended, like it had stopped though the world was still spinning, but perhaps it was just me. no other thoughts penetrated and no other feelings remained, only my lust for more of this leisure.

it’s not very often that I shut my brain off completely, and I make it a point to do it consciously so I can turn it back on consciously, but this time-lapse was upon me and shut my brain down before I could react appropriately.

the minute details of these hours make up everything, each second a double count and weighing heavier in the air that was saturated with tension I wanted to cut. instead, we let it hang, savoring it as we should have. I’d trace his bottom lip with my eyes closed, curious when I felt the sides of his mouth curl with slightness, though I refrained from opening my eyes.

he was like reading the best book, the lucky find in the back of the bookstore; the one that gets left on a random shelf because someone else was too lazy to put it back in its appropriate place. you love the cover, discovering that what’s written inside is a treasure trove….and you are grateful.

all of this was mine for 24 + 24.

I looked up from my cup, now close to empty and noticed the couple was gone, probably lost in a song down an old dirt road. I wondered then what song it was and if anyone spends forty-eight hours with another person anymore, allowing themselves to be completely taken over by that “thing” that takes us over, for lack of a better word.

I took my last sip, reclaiming all of the sounds of the diner and smiling. I allowed a sensation of deja vu sweep me away as I stepped in the parking lot, filling my nostrils with crisp, fall air. It was still summer outside, but autumn was rapidly approaching and existed so vividly in my mind when my thoughts turned to him; I am in an uninterrupted state of harvest.

24 + 24

and counting.

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