Thursday, December 18, 2014

Chemistry

He used to call her Scout. She felt important because of that. He had a way about him: quiet, self-assured and somehow magnetic. It flattered her that a guy, no, a man like him found her interesting. He was intelligent and instinctive enough to be devastatingly charming when he needed to be. His attentions warmed her, made her feel like The Only One. Scout, the Only One for Him.

Their meetings were electric, secrets that she hugged close to herself. Every touch ignited a spark; every breath was an affirmation of desires granted. They lit up every time they were around each other. So this was chemistry, she thought in wonder. Each loved the hint of challenge in the other, the fact that this was no straight and simple love story which would eventually become mundane.

He disappeared one day. Given his intelligence, he did a thorough job. She knows the futility, but can't stop looking for him every once in a while. His absence is a vacuum she carries within. She misses being on fire. She misses being Scout.