An Unexpected Gift

It was 1am on a Friday night and that’s when it happened.

“You have trouble making eye contact, don’t you?” He said.

I chuckled, a surprised chuckle.

“Well, I’m just not used to making extended eye contact.” Not with someone like you, I wanted to add. It was true; he had piercing hazel eyes that gave the most intense gaze I have ever been on the receiving end of.

To prove my point, I told a quick anecdote of one of the few times in my life when my heart quite literally skipped a beat — I held a beautiful French boy’s gaze from across a crowded room for all of four seconds.

He laughed and nudged for me to sit up.

“What?” I asked suspiciously as we maneuvered ourselves into crossed-legged positions, facing each other, knees touching.

“I want to teach you how to be comfortable with people,” he said, his gaze scanning my face in the dark, finding my eyes — which were throwing flirty glances at the sheets, the bookshelf, the doorway, anywhere but his dark pupils — , then resting on them, intentionally weighty.

“What are you doing?” I giggled, attempting at levity.

He stared on in silence.

“This is so strange,” I said, shaking my head, “Seriously, can we stop?”

His hazel eyes made no acknowledgement.

Since he was going to be stubborn about this, I will just entertain him for a bit, I thought, too tired to argue further. I stared back, smiling, amused but defiant.

One second, two seconds, three seconds, four…

I waited, as the seconds dragged on, for him to break his gaze. There were no sounds, except for our gentle breathing and my awkward shifting on the sheets.

Five, six, seven, eight…

I felt my shoulders relax, a rarity I knew, since my friends were always remarking on the thick knots near my neck whenever they gave me a massage.

…Eleven, twelve…

I lost count, as the entirety of my attention had shifted to his pupils. They were dark liquid pools and I was several feet deep in them, wading slowly, lazily.

“You see?” He whispered, “This is what it feels like to be comfortable with someone.”

I read E.E. Cummings in high school English class and of course I found his poetry to be beautiful — it was about love after all — of course! But I swear, it was in that moment, as our eyes were locked, that I finally understood the meaning of the line, “your eyelids’ flutter which says: we are for each other.”

It happened at 1am — the most unexpected gift I ever received.