I wrote this last summer…I’d like to refine this into something more poetic. This was simply me writing in my Moleskine, from mind to my hand through my Parker Jotter onto those off-white acid-free pages. I remember cooling off in the air-conditioned subway car…

My back, enclosed by the heat of a black suit jacket, cries out for relief. My forehead prickles with beads of sweat, swiped away by my stiff white handkerchief. My cologne wafts up from my neck and chest, bringing back memories. This is me, walking down a summer street.

My brow is furrowed, a scowl upon my visage. My eyes, squinted and fighting off the rays of sun beaming from above the clouds, peer from behind my glasses. I see many women. Many of them are pretty. Some of them even beautiful. Some of them have long lustrous hair, shining in the heat of the sun like strands of silk. Others have their hair tied into a ponytail or a neat little bun, or in various ways that only a woman can decipher. They are all attractive. Some of them wear cute blouses, some of them with an open collar and an open button, screaming their love of sex and power. They are all desirable. Some of them have shapely legs and slender bodies. Others have curvy figures and ample bust. They are all resplendent. Some of them are tall and thin, faces sharp. Others are petite and supple, faces round. They are all desirable. But none of them are as beautiful or desirable as Malissa. This is me, in love.I cannot see their many lips that turn to smiles that melt my heart. I cannot hear their voices as serenades in my ears. I cannot smell their scent, feminine and intoxicating. I cannot feel the warmth of holding any of them, bodies leaning with desire. I cannot look into their eyes with love and adoration. I cannot imagine myself with anyone else but her. Only with Malissa. This is me, in pain.

I wonder if it can happen again…can I fall so deeply in love? What Tom Scavo said in the Desperate Housewives season finale, it touched me because it showed the dedication and absolute love that a man can have towards a woman.

…because who gets to choose the ice sculpture? Who should take out the trash, who has to stay home and make the mini pizzas? That’s the little stuff. What’re you gonna do when the big stuff comes along? What’re you gonna do when a tornado hits the house or you have problems with your kids, or one of you gets cancer? At some point, the crap is going to hit the fan. And that is why now, before you make the commitment, is that person in bed next to you worth the trouble? Do you love him, or her, so much that no disease no disaster could possibly pull you apart?

Granted my own experience was nowhere nearly as intimate as an engaged couple, I am a strong believer in love at first sight. When you know, you know. It wasn’t first sight, but in my heart of hearts, I knew that there was something magical about what we had. They say every love is different, and I agree. I am not going to go through life seeking the same exact love I had with her for that would be a story bound to conclude in disappointment.

I knew that I was entirely drawn to the woman who wrote that personal that I read on my screen….but I have yet to find any profile that has drawn me in so readily. And it is not for lack of attention or trying. I really don’t believe that I’m still hung up over Malissa, but nobody has intrigued me yet. I knew that she was special. I only wish we had met under different circumstances…all I ever really wanted was a real chance.

Well, in good time…in good time, I am sure another special someone will fall into my life.