As if by some perverse sense of irony, the radio is playing..."I only want to be with you..."

I sit, staring at her. She does not notice, and if she does, she doesn't show it. I watch her talk, her face animated by some story - just out of earshot. I watch her mouth, her lips moving rapidly through her tale. From smiling, to feigned seriousness, to outright sarcasm. I watch. I allow my gaze to flow through the roundness of her cheeks, know I am playing it dangerously. And I knew, I absolutely knew it would happen. If you were to ask, "will it happen?" I would've responded that it surely will. I will pretend innocence, even shock. But I knew I would let my eyes fall. Fall into hers.

Flashes of green and brown. Like some ancient rain forest, hiding some treasure. One you know is there, but the rain forest will only give you hints and peeks. Now please forgive me for waxing a bit pretentious, but I have no other way to describe the depth and beauty of her eyes. I know some well heeled wordsmith would be able to paint a picture of subtle beauty, but you are stuck with my feeble attempts. I simply can't move past her eyes, I don't want to. I want to be lost in there, I want to know what is like again.

I haven't stopped loving her, and I sometimes hate myself for that. I mean, how long has it been? How long can I pine away? Looking at those eyes, I know. For as long as it takes.

"...waiting for the break of day, 25 or 6 to 4..." The radio plays on...