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At First Sight

At First Sight
by Jace Daniel (b. 1969)

It was a Saturday when I first saw her. Early spring. It had been a long winter, and throwing myself into a committed relationship was the last thing I’d intended to do. But on that fateful day, when I least expected it, we crossed paths, locked eyes, and the magic began.

I would soon learn that she was rebounding, coming out of an abusive relationship, with a detailed past I figured would be better left undisclosed to me. What did it matter, anyway? We all have our pasts, and for many of us, the past can be like a square peg to the future’s round hole. New beginnings happen, and they begin no earlier than now.

Like most new relationships, ours was naturally awkward at first. I had become so accustomed to my privacy and personal freedom that I was expecting to find her presence intrusive to my comfortable norm. But I soon recognized a void in my life, a void that she filled. A previously unrealized void that she revealed simply by being in the same room. A void I would never wish to have in my life again if I could help it.

It wasn’t long, perhaps immediately, that we became the proverbial two peas in a pod. A likely duo. And in all honesty, she’s proven to be the better half. Despite all my quirks and faults, the unconditional acceptance she brought to our relationship is something I’ll never consider myself worthy of. She lets me do whatever I want, whenever I want, and never complains. The element of Self seems to be completely absent from her sense of Love, and, unless she’s hiding her feelings, nothing makes her happier than my happiness.

And to top it all off, she actually thinks I’m a good cook.

She’s here in the room now, patiently waiting for me to finish this silly exercise I do so often at my computer, tapping plastic keys with my fingers for no apparent reason. She’s on the floor, her head resting on the top of my bare feet, her eyes ready to make contact with mine on those occasional moments when I bother to look down. In not so many words, she’s telling me, as she always does, “Ready when you are.”

So now, as I finally bring this story to a close, I am indeed ready. Where did I put that leash?

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