Misty pillows of cold air float up from our mouths into the night sky. I watch you from the glow of the street lights, take a match out of your pocket. Then you slowly pull a neatly folded piece of notebook paper out afterwards. I stare intently, a smirk on my face, as your hands fumble; balancing both the paper and the match. As discussed earlier, your plan is to destroy this clean, fragile, piece of paper. You try striking the match, but no sparks, nothing. I lightly tap you on the shoulder. You stop, and turn towards me. I look up at you, wide-eyed and hopeful. You can tell what I want. I want to read the letter just one more time, before it becomes just hot ash sifting across the ground. Your thoughts and feelings, gone. Your pretty handwriting, that’s sprawled across the page. Words written with gold gel pen. Words that I’d never be able to lay my eyes on again. Only memorable phrases that stick to my mind. I can tell that you’re going over the idea of actually letting me hold the paper a few times in your head. Cautiously, you hand me the paper. The second it reaches my palm, I tightly grasp my fingers around it, flash a devilish grin, and sprint off in the opposite direction.
Knowing this type of thing could happen, you pull me back to you. And automatically try to wrestle it from my hands. Minutes pass, and we’re still in the same spot. Pulling, and tugging. My lungs burn from laughter, and I hear you half grunt, half laugh, in frustration. A smile spread across your face. By now, I know the paper is a wrinkled mess. More wrinkled and weak than a person over the age of 100 years old. I almost don’t mind what happens to the paper, I just want to be able to hold your smooth hands in mine. But the game continues, and I try to escape again for one quick second. Just enough time to slip the piece of paper down into my shirt, without you realizing where it went.
You look at me, your eyes and smile confused. You want to know where the paper went. I look into your deep brown eyes, and slightly shrug. By now, our smiles are permanently plastered on our faces. Suddenly, we’re thrashing about some more. We end up with you falling to the ground. And of course, you wrap your arms around my legs, and pull me down with you. More thrashing occurs. My golden blonde hair flying all over, lightly contrasting to yours that is dark. More questioning glances shot at me, and I’d simply point to random spots around the abandoned parking lot, claiming that’s where the important letter was thrown. But even by straining your eyes, you still can’t see it. So you give up on my accusations, and just sit on the cold ground.
I realize that we’re somehow tangled up together. Arms and legs intertwined, still gasping for air. Still giggling to ourselves, and I love every minute of it. We talk quietly to eachother, laughing from time to time. Joking lightly. And I still hold you close to me. Time continues to pass, but it goes unnoticed. After much determination, we finally pull eachother up off of the blacktop. Noticing prints left in our hands from the gravel, and aches that had started from the long period of discomfort on the ground. But instead of going home, you take my hand and we walk towards the metal gates enclosing the silent playground, our playground. There’s no one around, just you and me, and it excites me. After a few glances around to see if we really are alone, we are.
We slowly walk towards our favorite green slide. The one with little bumps throughout it. It’s out of plain view from the public. Shadows cast all over the park, and we can hear the rumble of cars passing by up the hill. But I feel safe. And I’d never felt so alive. We stop in front of the slide, ready to take our usual spots. I sit down at the bottem, and lean back so that I’m laying down. The only part of me that isn’t, are my feet that are on the ground. You inch your way on top of me.
Almost your full weight is on me, but you’re careful not to hurt me. I feel pressure, but I feel no pain at all, just comfort. A warm, soft comfort. And all mine. Your warmth and heavenly scent made the anxiety of you finding the letter disappear. I was a little uneasy, you being just inches away from it. But the letter was on the inside, and you were on the out. You lower your head, and your face is close to mine. We gaze at eachother for a little, and then your soft lips are on mine. Happiness, security. And most of all, love, swell inside of me. Your fingers move through my hair, as I lightly stroke your back.
Kiss after kiss, and then you lean upwards abruptly . You felt me shivering with cold. In just a light weight navy blue sweatshirt, I am not dressed for a wintery night in January. You selflessly take off your silky winter coat. You lightly push my arms close to my sides, cover me with your coat, and tuck me in on the sides near the edges of the slide. I see your gentle eyes sparkle in the moon light. I stop you from leaning down, and take the jacket off of me. I remember that you’ve been picking up a cold recently. That doesn’t matter to you, but I won’t take no for an answer. You look at me confusedly, as I pull you close to me once again, and drape the jacket over you, covering us both. Creating a blanket of both cotton and body heat.
You then reach towards the hood of your coat, and pull it down over both of our heads. And I see nothing. The only way I could tell you were still with me, was the warm breath that I felt on my face. The most peaceful darkness I’d ever known. I fumble through the dark and find my destination, your warm lips. I close my eyes, and go with the flow. A million thoughts rushing through my head. My heart beating crazily. I feel electricity all over, that I know will stay with me always. After what seems like forever, we pull the hood off of our heads, and are exposed to the cold stillness around us at once. If time made no difference, and neither did temperature, I would have paused this moment in time. But you then eye me suspiciously, noting that my chest looks like it grew. Oops. My secret has just been revealed, and we both laugh. You , smiling with success. And me, smiling uneasily with humor, and the slightest tinge of worry that the letter-stealing game would begin again. I finally ask if you want the letter back.
“You know I always let you keep my letters, dear.” And with that, the feelings rush back to me as soon as you kiss me lightly on the lips once again, and what I hoped to be forever.
