no one knows this more than me

    I was standing in the rain, kissing a man I barely know, my hands held in his and curled into the pockets of his coat. We stood beneath a street light; it was the old-fashioned sort, almost gaslight-yellow and dim, casting shadows more than it revealed anything below. The rain was steady, more than mist but not enough to bother, just thrumming at the edge of my consciousness. I was aware of almost nothing but the feel of him: rough jeans against my bare (skirted) leg, one furry knee angling through a hole in the denim, tickling my own; his shirt crispy on my smooshy sweater; the scratch of 5:00-shadow against my cheek; exquisite tension in those tenderly-held hands; a curious mix of the night's cold and our heat at our faces. It was the best feeling. The best kiss. And then, a car alarm. I jumped back, pulled my hands from his, turned to see--

--and woke up. It was the alarm clock. I was fucking dreaming it.

Uuuuuuugh!

    What a fucking irritating way to start the day. Well, that and I'd hit the snooze button so many times that I was already late for work. I threw on some clothes, made food, ran down to the car, and took off. For once, I was actually glad to get there. Why? Because I'd driven the last four blocks on a flat tire. Got settled (made tea--caffeine was vital by that point) and started texting. I was marooned at work, so I needed to get the tire fixed by remote control. Option #1 (Asking Man) was working all day, but Option #2 (The Mumbler) was both amenable and available. By 3:00, the flat (I'd driven over something metal, very hot. The rubber was melted. WTF?!) was in the trunk, replaced by the never-before-used donut spare. *whew*

    The strangest thing is that, given the way the day started, it wasn't half bad. I worked at the regular place (the day simply shifted a half-hour off its standard schedule), then came home and did the other gig until about 10:30.     

     So here I am, almost full-circle, thinking again about that kiss. How is it possible to miss someone you never got to know? A rhetorical question, naturally, since I do; the why doesn't matter, not nearly as much as do. It's possible like it's possible to be in a room filled with people and to see--to without intent focus on--only one. There you were, and there I was.