How could this be...

We have these moments.

Moments on street corners, in bars, in the grocery store, at the park, on the freeway, where we see someone and we know that everything we ever could be, and everything they ever could be, together, they're the one. Maybe the one for the moment, one for the week, the month, the year, they're it.

To the men I've yet to meet, the men who will touch me, wreck me, love me, I'm rushing towards you. I'm not a girl to wait, and maybe you like that, maybe you fear it.

But the actions I take today and the actions you are performing right now bring us together and I am so excited to know that one day, across a restaurant, at a coffee shop, in the movies, at a bookstore, I'll see you.

We'll talk.

We'll laugh.

We'll flirt.

We'll introduce new concepts to each other, new ideas, new motions and things to find attractive about the opposite sex. We'll impact each other so strongly for such a short entanglement, pushing off each other like walls in the swimming pool, launching towards the next destination, shoving aside water as we power forward.

I'll be in your bed, my clothing will decorate your floor. I will fall asleep with my head on your chest, breath blowing quietly against your skin until I do what I nearly always do: turn away and sleep on my own. Maybe you'll follow, pressing your chest against my spine, your nose buried in my hair. Maybe you won't.

I'll show you tricks I've learned, I'll show you how to relax, how to laugh during sex, how to enjoy yourself and to not worry about your partner so much it impedes the moment of your enjoyment.

And you'll show me things, things I've yet to think of, but you know them so well.

Our combined sexual histories will come together for an evening, for a few weeks, or a few months.

And then we'll part.

All of these moments.

I'm looking forward to the one with you.