We sat in my car, music played and she stared into my eyes. There was an eagerness to her, An excitement. Her eyes smiled, her whole body shimmered with presence. I told her some story about how concerts had to be small rowdy, dance-able affairs. How I didn’t count any concerts that I had gone to if I couldn’t get lost in the crowd and dance till the music stopped. Music played and people walked across the street ahead of us. I had parked in a street that intersected Hollywood Blvd. Hollywood illuminated the windshield as if we were watching a movie at a drive in. People walked, cars drove, and my music played. Everything dark except for the scene in front of us. She faced me, and I faced the street in front. She had big eyes, short black hair, and lips that I kept glancing at.

Moments like these, I bear my soul. Some people guard themselves, protect their hearts. It’s the smart move. She’s a stranger, the world tells me I should. I don’t. I tell you how I love to love. I tell you how I want to be happy, but I feel the most when I’m not. I tell you how I love and how I fear. I want you to know me, I want you to see me, and tell me its ok. It’s a weakness really. I want what I give. I meet someone and I love them. I understand and know you.

Souls are blind, stumbling in the dark, always reaching for each other.

Turning to her, she kissed me. I kiss back. I felt the passion, the need, the wanting and I gave it back. I could feel it and I was a fiend for it. We kissed, I pulled her in and held her neck. She trembled and sighed and kissed me back. We’d stop, and she’d look at me. Those big eyes.

“Someone’s walking by”

I didn’t care. My hand under her blouse, her pulling me in, I feel the yearning and I need it. Chasing what I once had. Feeling her need and for a moment, I can give it back. Pulling her shirt down, music playing, nothing but you, my music, Hollywood and I.

Those big eyes.

I walked her to her car. She held my hand. Our hands swung as we walked.

“Drive safe, Ill text you when I get home.”

She got into her car and rolled the window down. I stood and watched.

“Hey c’mere”

She kissed me. The passion, the wanting, those big eyes.

“When can I see you again?”


If I had asked her to come over, she would have. I felt guilt. I knew that I didn’t feel it as much as she did. I knew her, but it wasn’t there.

I saw her one more time after that.

She’d later message me. She’d tell me how I was no good, and how I used her.