Phases: Faces

One time, on a random day, some time in our seventh year, a disgusting song you particularly hated played while we were working out. I searched for your face among the sweaty ones in the other side of the gym where bench-pressing boys usually are. My intention was to make sure you knew that song was on. That way I can see your garbled face and triumph that I was able to make you feel annoyed so early in the day. So I searched and I found you. You just finished a set of leg lifts. You seem to have found me first searching for you by perhaps a second or two? Boy was I not prepared to find you already looking at me.

It wasn’t one of the numerous faces you make when you are trying to make me laugh. It’s an unfamiliar look. It’s not that one when you retort to my loving insult or the one that dismisses a sincere compliment. You did not look exhausted though it’s far from being agitated. Just about as natural as you can be. It’s probably one of those rare times that I didn’t think you looked pale. You were just bright. That expression did not have an ounce of sadness but still unsmiling. But I know you were. Kind of. Smiling.

I can never be sure but I may have smiled because you smiled back, rather sweetly. And that face I don’t see very often is again forever lost. You nodded. And suddenly I was lost too. Not knowing what had happened and why it happened. Then and there.

September 15, 2012 (something like that)

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