Portrait of Us

The idea of love was not entirely novel to him; but as it stands she was uncharted waters and he was no sailor. They were both utterly at variance on the idea of a first date,  but she handed him a red rose which she bought from a young boy because he overly fretted about sending her the wrong signals.

 I tell you a story about the great uneasiness he felt when he left her side, and how empty he felt knowing that it would take forever to see her again. Days without her felt like eternity with an unrelenting pain of emptiness. So I tell you a story: one with a sad ending, one where he realizes that she was the best thing yet to happen to him. The fold of sea waves swaying at the command of the air could only be a sign of a pleasing late lunch. As he clearly remembered, it was her initiative that had brought them to the picturesque spaces of the Bouregreg Marina in the Moroccan capital. It was a beautiful late afternoon and the sun sailing down the horizon could only be defined as listening to a ballad arm-in-arm with a beloved. She was well dressed, simple yet extravagant. He loved her fashion choice and how she carried herself. Bold. Her confidence was nothing he had initially thought. Before she moved any further, he had taken a snapshot of her as a smile creased her face. It was simple and genuine. True to her nature, and what she was feeling. He didn’t stand a chance. How could he, he was free falling but the weight of her impression had dulled his heart to the sensations of love that were beating against it. She walked in front of him like her hips moved mountains and she knew it. Not that he ogled but his eyes did glide pass the view. It was unexpected.

If it was intended to be a first date, then they both would agree that it was a beautiful one. A simple, nonetheless perfect date, which was filled with laughter, meaningful conversation, good and terrible food, and ice cream. Love took its own sweet time in arriving, more so he was not ready to admit that she was by far and large his best first date. As they ambled on, he spotted an empty seat a few inches from the ocean and invited her to sit down. Before long a young boy trying to make a few dirhams- which he was certain was money for a cigarette- hustled by with a dozen roses trying to make a sale. She bought one and handed it to him. It went straight to his heart. Like a bolt of lightning ripping the sky apart, it tore through his defenses making him feel again. The conversation had taken turns with honest admiration for each other. He admired her strength and she held him up there with realness. They enjoyed hearing each others stories and experience and the intensity was brewing.

But then...