Here's just no other way to say it.
I am really into erika. we spent the past 24 hours together, and it was absolutely amazing. i'll be french and ask a rhetorical question and then answer it myself:
Could our date possibly have been any better? no, according to my recent calcluations, which included:
Our first kiss, which was in my new apartment, in the hallway, on the hardwood floor, between the glass cupboard and the kitchen counter.
An incredible dinner at this peruvian restaurant on armitage where we ate:
Arroz con mariscos--absolutely delicious
Pesti de gallina--pesto spaghetti with breaded steak and potatoes. . . i even sampled the steak--not impresed--but the spaghetti was so damn good
Una inka cola--tasted just like boston creme soda. super yum.
Tea at filter, lavender and jasmine. and it's here at this cafe where it hit both of us: there was no one in that cafe except us. of course there were tons of cafe hoppers, maclovers, wiry hipsters, muted rage poets--typical wp--but we didn't notice them, i mean, how could we? we were a foreground of 2 bold strokes, a two-person act, an awkward couplet of battered silence and splintered words, almond-shaped eyes and fingers criss-crossing like a cat's cradle, we were lost, completely removed from everything, not flaunting our relationship as a way of completing it, but entranced by the brutal clarity of that opened sky, that naked moment without cliches, fear, pain, memory, ego, defense mechanism, psychohistory, role playing, self-mirroring. it was everything i haven't been since i was a teenager, and it wasn't pushed by awkwardness or insecurity, but by magenetism and joy. i was just there, with erika, i was completely there, like krishnamurthi talks about in his book of life, i was there, and i could hear everything around me, i was completely aware of everything, but i only saw her. if eyes can be meditation, then surely relationships can be ashrams. . .
Afterwards we came back to my place and we:
Ate cannolis + chocolate mousse cakes that should have been called "the spice" for you dune fans out there
And then, we made out for hours and hours and hours. the kisses were like a complete meal in and of themselves. they were passionate, soft, tender, sweet, and i was calm and turned on like a sleeping g4.
This morning, we kissed and kissed and kissed until our bodies were ravaged with hunger for the things that can't consume us, and so in the afternoon, we made a nice salad with smoked salmon, avocado, sweet sesame sticks, spinach, carrots, goddess dressing, olive oil, fresh pepper, and then we went back to my bedroom and made out some more. if lips can be addiction, then i'm in some serious shit man. i can hear amy wineburg singing "rehab" and i kinda like it.
But here's the straight dope:
After all of that, we talked on my bed, sometimes in spanish, sometimes in english, and eventually, we became so open to each other, after our first kiss, our first night together, our 3rd date in 7 months, after seeing erika at my front door, dressed in a cute black dress with a little attached belt, her matching red earrings, headband and shoes, she was so beautiful then, standing there, glowing like a piece of carved star, this morning, on my bed, dressed in my notre dame t-shirt, she was so radiant and kind and raw and affectionate, and something broke inside both of us after i told her how beatiful she was to me, after she told me that i saw her for who she was, how she used to think she was crazy, but now she doesn't, and we just cried, it was so bizarre and ridiculous and amazing, we just started crying because we loved each other in that moment, we were nothing more and nothing less than we were when we were together then.
And i am completely lost in these memories, whether or not i come back.