By: N. Mozart Diaz
I wonder if this was what Scott meant.
Tell me, are you real?
I wonder if this was how Gatsby looked at Daisy, like she was the only girl that mattered. The way everyone wants to be looked at at least once.
She’s a dream come true.
The world seemed to slow down around her. In this golden afternoon, the world’s seemed to have stopped like the world’s holding its breath for this one perfect moment. Sunlight filled the gazebo, the rest of the world didn’t matter now. It was only me and her, her and me and we were alone together against the noise of humanity around us.
Heaven, this must be what heaven’s like.
She looks up from the menu and smiles at me.
She is golden.
There are such things as perfect moments. This is one. The sunlight fading, the dim lights turned on, the perfect girl for the perfect moment. No words were needed, a warm silence enveloped us — we didn’t need to say a word.