The night we met, I had been drinking tequila. The last show of the weekend had just ended and the dirty and colorful boys and girls, long exhausted from alcohol, dancing, and drugs, poured down the grassy isles in a fleshy stream. A DJ brought his equipment from home, set it up in the back of his SUV, and kept the night alive by blasting thick electronic music. Asian girls would flock around and dance to the sounds of dubstep, modestep, post-dub step, and some 'new shit' nobody had ever heard. A glitchy synth stuttered over a pulsing drum and bass track. "Oh, shit.. That's dope!" a weary youth would comment to the DJ. Me, in my tan shorts; the ones I wore all weekend; the ones I would remove only for the sake of bathing in a public shower, sat on the edge of a chair - wasted. Wasted, but coherent. Able to turn my head, but only slightly. I was inebriated the perfect amount when I adjusted my falsely impaired eyes into the cross hairs of her stare. I smiled, looked away, and spoke two thoughts under my breath, "Uh-oh..." with a grin. "..Here we go.." I tried hard not to look, but I was caught in brown eyes. "At last!" I thought. My eyes had fallen on her tan skin. I was fixed on the red linen hanging perfectly from her breast, clung tightly beneath her chest, draping and rippling down to the desert ground. I had told myself, and my friends, that I would search never more for love. I had made a grand announcement, a humorous speech about how I was done. Off. Fed up. Tired and tried. My heart had lied. In my stupid shirt, pink and blue, I looked away. A rainbow of fake flowers hung around my neck. I stared at the dirt, then again into her eyes, and again at her skirt. "Fuck. Fuck!! What do I do? ..FUCK! She's beautiful.. maybe I'll just stare at her a million times until she goes away." I must have met her eyes one thousand times when, somehow, stars aligned and she ended up by my side. I gave her a decorated purple paper lamp, one of three that I had purchased from the Dollar Store.  "Are you sure?" She asked. An innocent romantic intensity poured from her lips. "Yes, take it. I'm sure." said I, the lame. Then I met her Dad, and it was weird, but as we exchanged words he turned out to be a cool guy. I was pumping the blood of an anxious heart, enchanted by the potential of love, or at the very least, connection. Her smile, the song to my amusement. My heart; an amusement park. I was one roller coaster away from coating my shoes with smooth talk. She had a friend, blonde with young eyes. My kindness prevailed and I gave glow sticks to both and sent them off with silly string and the purple lamp. We exchanged Facebook information and parted. The party was done, the fire flickered itself to sleep, and I drifted along my own thoughts with pride.

Months have passed since then. Once, I only knew her face in the dark. Now, I know her face in the Sun. I know the taste of her tongue. I know the scent of her hair and the type of clothes she wears. I know her in my bed, the temptation of her skin, and my patience wearing thin. I know little about what she's really like.. I know nothing more than the three days she and I have spent together. I have found room for doubt. Already I feel a cold loneliness when she is not around. In her voice, I hear a most beautiful sincerity.  Yet, there are times my heart becomes distrustful - I let it go. When she called me with trouble on her mind, concerned about wild boys attempting to lay hands on her precious form, I assured her that we are just friends. That's all I want, and that's all I need. Even if she was my girlfriend, that's all that this distance allows us to be. But inside I fight jealousy. I fight my own imagination as it torments me. She is free, as a beautiful girl should be, and it terrifies me. But I am no cage. A bird that lust, must. But, foremost, I am no fool. But I am a fool for most. This foolishness is what terrifies me so. I am foolish for her kiss, her touch, and those long clenching fingers - I am a wanting fool. I want what is best. Wading through jealous waters, drowning in insecurities, my soul has become watered down.
So, I'll trust her. I'll trust her to do exactly what she's meant to do. I'll do me. And she'll do she. The radio will play us a sad song. Together or apart, we will sing along.