She liked
Chinese food and I preferred
Mexican. Trivial, I know, but it said a lot about our
personalities. She was
mysterious and
wrapped in layers I could never pry open. I had a flair for the
exotic and
enticing, though I rarely gave in to that side of myself.
I was half dreading going to her 'home' but I was also sure that it would bring us closer. The enchanting sparkle in her eyes would finally let me in, let me know where it came from and why it disappeared somedays. I assured myself that we would move past her loss together, stronger than before, and make a home of our own. Someplace to park the car and a ceiling to gaze at on restless nights. A place with grass and blankets, with windows and coffee cups.
She was driving slower now as the rain dripped from the overburdened clouds, sharing in her grief with tears of their own. She looked oddly comforted and strangely renewed, but I guess rain can do that to a person. Make you feel warm inside even though your skin is screaming. Refresh your soul while reminding you that you are not in charge of your life, the weather, or the world. You are merely there to find your other half. And I had found her.