Firsts...

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My goodness, what is it?

What's that magical thing about firsts?

You know, the first time your hand brushes his 'accidentally' 

Yet no one retracts

You kind of just leave it there 

To see who's going to do the next move

And then of course 

The anxiety you get wondering 

'what's he thinking? do I look ok? 

Is there something in my teeth? ah what's he saying?

Gosh he's cute… 

Well this particular first was not exactly that and yet it was...

She walked in with zero intentions of romance

Just seeking good conversation with a new friend 

They talked about a sport she barely knew 

Aside from the fact 

That whenever the word 'goool' was said out loud 

A shot was taken 

So she stayed, not for the shots, but for the thoughts

The ones shared with with the stranger

The ones shared with a friend 

She looked not at the time, 

Not because it didn't exist 

But because she felt it as a passing element 

One that encumbers you, so that you know it's there

But says not a word, just listening and observing…

She looked at him, 

At the way his hand curved around the glass he held

Nursing a beer with way too much foam 

She looked at the way he pointed 

To the ceiling speakers as he looked at her

And sang along to the song played

It was nice, she liked it…

He stayed close and he removed her cloak 

Yes, her cloak, because a shell is just too hard

And it's something you have to break out of

But he, he gently removed it from her shoulders

Making sure she felt comfortable with his closeness 

Nigh was he too much, nor too little

He knew exactly when to lean in 

And hold her 

And she let him 

She found herself enjoying the comfort 

Of a person that was once a stranger 

She looked into his eyes 

And she just was 

She was herself without a pang of guilt 

Or an apology for any of her faults

For that what she lacked 

Or that what she had

And he took her in that way 

It was the first time for her

No critiques, no judgements 

It just was…

-Bionica

And the sun rises everyday

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She's twenty something 

Late twenties really 

Just a little before thirty 

She's from New Jersey 

But she work's in NY 

You know, that city where dreams are made 

Or at least created 

It's like a place that holds a lot of dreams really 

That  dream of leaving everything behind 

And starting a new 

Of becoming your own self 

With out a care in the world

At least not caring what anyone else thinks anyway 

Well at twenty something 

It's kind of when you come to know 

A lot of things 

Like the fact that as everyone else is getting married

You're still single 

Yet it doesn't' bother you 

But your friends, they start to want to settle down 

They don't all want to be 'late–

for that very important date'

Ah yes, life 

That thing everyone is trying to rush 

While those that take it in stride 

Are simply called hippies

Peace-love and flower power

But why rush?

Why are you trying to become 

That adult that hates the job traveled to every day

That looks forward to the evening to forget with a  glass of wine

The person that gets into a relationship to conform–

To the pressures of society, 

Those that say you should already be married with a mortgage 

And 2.5 children–point five!

What's the point of that?

Isn't that what drives to the point of no return 

Where so many people refuse to look back and 

Just go deeper and deeper 

You know with the abuse that no one will confirm out loud

Drinking, zanax and valium here and there

Because no one wants to feel…

But really, what's so bad?

If you didn't want it

Why did you take it?

When did you lose yourself?

Is that what being an adult is really about?

Well no wonder Peter Pan never wanted to be one!

She'll just stay

Stay right where she is and keep studying 

Keep learning about what she likes 

And what's right for her

At twenty something,

She might be on to something 

The greatest moments of her life

Because she wants to feel 

She's up for the ups and downs that will come 

She's ready for them 

To learn from them and embrace from them 

Because she just refuses to be that person 

That will let everything bring her down 

She won't conform 

She's going to rebel 

Loud or silently, 

She's just going to do it

It's the only way she knows 

And maybe that's part of her magic

That fairy dust that she just can't let go of 

Dreams–because they are achievable 

Did she just say that?

Cliché right? 

Oh touché

-Bionica

Thinking

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She was a couple years from 30 and still 

She thought she would be better

She thought that she was done with the adolescent rebellion 

That she never experienced

Yet it was still there

The break through she made 

Now had to be released and untapped 

Yet she didn't know how 

She didn't know how to bring forth those words 

That in her mind were slowly making their way 

She had partly made peace with the fact

That his absence hurt her like nothing else in the world 

But what then?

Did she tell him how she felt?

She didn't 

Afraid to bring hurt to him 

She kept it to herself 

Unsure if she would ever bring 

Such truth forward

Ah to be pensive 

-Bionica

Surprise

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She was single

At work 

And not dating anyone 

But she got them

Right in the middle of the day, 

She received word that there was a package for her

When she made it to reception, 

There they were

A beautiful assortment of spring tulips

Sometime in the middle of February 

What a surprise too!

But from who?

Inside there was a simple note with her name 

It read 

"I'm sorry"

No exclamation, no period, no comma

Just like that 

And she wondered all day and all night

Who could they be from?

Of course there were more than a dozen scenarios

Each one played out in her head with the same person 

Just ways in which he let her know that they were from him 

In all of them he showed up at her door with an even bigger bouquet 

Ready to surprise her 

Alas it wasn't him 

But someone else 

And then she wondered

"Did I really want to know?"

Would you? 

-Bionica

She did...

She did it! 

She closed her eyes and went for it

She told him about that feeling 

The one she gets when he looks at her 

That everything is ok because he's there to hold her hand

She told him how easy it is for her to get lost in his eyes 

And how much she loves the splendor of his speech 

The touch of his lips on her cheek 

A soft brush that only he can do 

The grip of his hands as he holds her close

And in turn he said not a word 

And she was lost 

In a world wind of questions 

'what did I do?'

'was it something I said?'

'perhaps I shouldn't have…'

But she did 

And she would do it again 

Because she tried 

To the depths of her self, she tried

She made that effort to let him know                                         

All the beautiful things he sowed with her                                                        image

Many the more illusions 

Of a love finally found 

Unmistakable smiles 

As they kissed under a thousand skies 

All the which she would do all again 

Because she loves him 

Because he will always be her present 

Because he will always exist in her moments 

-Bionica

And so we go...

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It's in there. Beneath that shell of 'I don't believe in love or any such thing' lies the dreamer that believes. Yes, as in those novels and fairy tales that begin with a 'once upon a time' there is a prince out there for each princess. Perhaps he's not as swift of a dancer to sweep her off her feet and carry her off into the night–but he will be enough to make her forget where she is. He will have her get lost in his words that are simple yet enchanting. He will tell her simple truths like 'I love you in that dress' or you should leave your hair down more, because it's just so beautiful. He will make her want to sway in the middle of the street forgetting about the cars beeping about the current traffic situation. Not sure about 'le raison de etre' but to her, his touch will be electrifying and soothing, something she just cannot get enough of. The love emanating from him that is truly obvious to those that see for his beloved queen that he doesn't often meet. 

But what about the reality? The reality that her close friends are still single battling guys they don't understand and trying understand why the dating scene is just so difficult. Preferring to remain in a relationship that gives more headaches than heartaches because of the some how infallible idea of being alone! 

Whatever happened to knocking on doors until the right one opened? Fear took over and with it came the complacency to settle for something shy from happiness to be aloud to say 'but I'm not alone'. 

This maybe why she's still single and 'with out a chance'–is she asking for too much? 

Not at all, she's just asking for a smile that will make her warm inside, for that brushing of hands that will put her nerves on high alert with the giddy heart palpitations that follow. She want's to get lost in a sea of people knowing that at the moment only they two exist. She wants what is true and meant to be, not something that's pretend and not supposed to be. 

-Bionica

On a Quest

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At 27 plus one she stood in the category of still single and not even mingling.  

No boyfriend to date and she was ok with that. Used to the fact of perhaps an occasional date every couple of years–yes years! She wasn't looking forward to much. 

At least it's what she made others believe. It's as if in her stood the external shell of a woman subdued to the fact that all men are the same. None worth any time that isn't spent playing some odd game of I'm not going to call you today but in a few weeks so we can get together again and see what happens. She was tired of silly mind games 'he loves me, he doesn't love me oh but he just texted me'.

She came to terms with the fact that not everyone is meant to be in a relationship and that's ok. 

However her parents on the other hand would like to differ. The dad that she so loved mentioned how he would love to have grand children apparently overlooking the fact that he also has a son that can provide ;) Truth be told, her mom would like to clarify that her only daughter is not a closet lesbian on the verge of being jamona.

After x amount of failed un relationships she came to terms with the fact 'mejor estar sola que mal acompañada' No need to drag things out with someone whose hand you don't care to hold for more than a second to confirm that the satellite time on your cellphone is in sync with the wrist watch. She was over that text conversation with the person that would reply to a message an hour later to a simple 'what are you upto?' with 'aquí ya tu ve…' no mas-no more. 

To go forward and focus on not having to decipher a man with as much intensity as morse code. She was not trying to make out every little hint to find out the he needed more time or to learn that he didn't believe in time and would want to just throw out the word relationship and jump into pure physicality. No she has an actual brain under the frizzy untamed curls. A brain that she very much enjoyed using to explore new worlds in a book where the character's love story unfolds into a fit of unplanned perfection–toil yielding to a not so secret I love you and just want to kiss you. 

But this, this is all made up and fiction. But it's what she went for. Leaving the reality of life to live on vicariously through a persona in a novel whose unfolding story pulled her in all the more. 

Skipping all the madness and drama, reaching all the lovely dovey googley eyes and kisses–she would never settle. She refused to go with someone who wouldn't acknowledge her in entirety. Young ladies deserve to be loved and stared into deeply after week long conversations over the phone. Going on about the day and counting the hours 'till we meet again'. In love one should be as excited to see the bearer of your favorite chocolate confection ;-) as a child looking forward to the close of a school day to run up to their parents arms. You should look at that person and just want to melt so that you can encumber their whole self and take in that scent that you so love. You should be able to hold a silent conversation in which you tell each other everything with a mere glance and brush of hands. It's about a language unsaid but very much felt. 

The one about that quest that must continue tomorrow because as of now this princess must sleep. 

'Till next time my pretties' the conversation of love and what it may be…

-Bionica