Slow Dancing in the Snow
We had gone up to the summit together, a short thirty minute drive. We decided to take his Chevy truck, because it would whether better than my little Jeep would. We had laughed and talked and joked in the cab the whole trip, all of it good natured and lively. It was raining in the town, but up on the hill it was snowing. I hadn't been to the snow in years, and had begged him to take me up there; just for shits and giggles. The two of us were just friends: I had liked him once before, but I had ruined our friendship by making him uncomfortable inadvertently. This was "Part II" as I liked to call it, and a new, fresh start.
To me, he was someone I could totally see myself with, but it wasn't urgent or crushing anymore. It was easy and weightless and harmless, now. He meant too much to me to lose him again with my liking love. Yes, I loved him. Very much, in fact. But it was the kind of love that if, in time, you wanted to try something new, you could.
He parked the car along the side of the road, and we got out and met on the passenger side. It was about 60 degrees colder outside than in the car: the freezing temperature bit at every piece of me that was exposed, and tried to get through my heavy chestnut colored down jacket. I had a black fleece scarf around my neck, and navy blue mittens on my hands. My Sorrel boots were secured tightly onto my feet, and my Levi's and long underwear were tucked into them. I was toasty everywhere except my face, and I was almost positive that my nose was going to look like Rudolf's rosy bulb.
We looked at each other, and he looked just as ridiculous as I did: a big gray jacket, Levi's and boots, with gloves and a scarf and a hat. We grinned at each other, and then took off racing into the snow covered trees. There was about a foot of fresh powder, unusual for the Silicon Valley. It was December 23, and the perfect snow day. I was outrageously happy. We threw a couple snowballs until I started a game of chase. Taunting him with things like "you can't catch me!" and "damn you run slow!" until he finally caught up with me and wrapped me up in his arms. I fought him for a couple seconds but the castle he had formed with his arms proved stronger than one would have thought, and I resigned to them.
As he held me I situated myself better, and wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer. Yes, the thought ran through my head that "friends" didn't do this, but I shoved it out, not caring. We stood like that for quite some time until I leaned back and looked at him. I was about to say something but he decided that this wasn't the right time for verbal language. He kissed me gently, like a mother kisses her newborn baby for the first time.
And we stood there and kissed until everything was stunningly beautiful and magnificent. The sky and the sun and the stars and the moon and the clouds and the birds and the trees and the flowers were all amazing. The plants and the cells and the colors and the lights and the sounds and every individual note that hit the air was amazing. And I was everything at once, and every individual thing as well, put together in a beautiful organized mess. I was everything, and the only one thing. I was a single, perfect, unique snowflake, and I was the kingly cloud that held all the snowflakes in the sky, letting only a choice selection make the journey to the ground. And as we kissed it was him and I and the whole world all at once. We were together yet separated from time itself. We were time. We were amazing and beautiful and spectacular and fantastic all at the same time, but we were so small compared to the rest of the world, which we were, too.
Was this how God felt? Or gods, plural? Or Buddha? Or Gandhi? Was this what it was like? This incredible feeling of being so powerful and so insignificant at the same time? I didn't know. All I knew was that as we pulled away, I mustered up all the love I had within me and tried my hardest to show it through my eyes. I wanted him to see all that I was feeling, all that's real and make believe. Could he see this wonderful feeling inside me? Could he see how much I wanted to share it with him? Him and no one else? He must have, because he pulled me into his arms again and tucked my head under his chin, and before I knew it we were slow dancing in the snow.
I could feel and hear his heart beating next to me, and I could feel mine thrumming along as well, in perfect harmony with his. Slow, steady, and somewhat more free than I could have ever possibly imagined. There was him, and there was me; then there was us.