Spotless Love

I knew him from a very young age. But as was meant to be, one fine day, my desire to see him elevated.

I was 13 and oh-so-naive. He was a year older . . . dark, wavy-haired, medium built and had the most intense eyes. His one look undeniably sent shivers down my spine. I started loving my weekly two hour classical music lessons even more. I could watch him play the dholak for hours. The music, the look, the emotions, the age, the proximity, the hormones . . . I get goose bumps as I speak about it. Everytime our eyes met, I blushed. I couldn't take his stare for long; I was extremely shy, innocent, young and couldn't comprehend the rush. I watched him when I thought he wasn't looking and that's all I ever mustered up courage to do. So guileless & pure, not wanting anything more than a few glimpses of him. I spent many evenings scribbling his name alongside mine on the back of my notebooks. I wondered if he would love me back, but I had no intentions of finding out. I was happy the way things were. I wanted nothing more. Probably on some level, I feared 'something more' would ruin all that I was experiencing.

Oh, I wish my desires could be so simple again,
how I wish I could feel the same way again.