Then…I Can Breathe Again

Has she noticed?

I don’t think so.

Maybe I stuttered a little,
During this elegant dinner out,
But that’s the nerves,
Constricted by the enormous pressure
I feel…

Now.

She might have seen the flush
In my cheeks,
In stark contrast
To the white linen tablecloth,
And sparkle of the crystal wine goblets…

But I’m hopeful the candlelight,
Dim as it was,
Left secret
My pulse racing,
Filling my body with heat,
And emotion.

What I cannot hide,
Is how much I love her.

Just that smile…
Now,
Melts me.

Her lips,
Moist,
Rich…

Strike a fire in me.

So…

Let’s review the plan…

I’ll distract her with some silly joke,
That she will graciously
Think is funny,
And laugh,
For me.

Then, I’ll get up from my seat,
And make my way to her side
Of the table.

Then, despite other patrons
In this exclusive restaurant
Stopping their conversations
And beginning to stare at me…

I will kneel next to her chair.

Then, I will reach into
My jacket pocket,
For a small jeweler’s case…

In which all my dreams reside.

Then, despite a tear
Streaming down her cheek,
As she recognizes this moment,
Witness to all,

I’ll fight with the entirety of my passion,
To press on,

Despite the public embarrassment,
And beautiful exultation.

Then,

Quivering…

I will muster every ounce
Of strength
Asked of my body,
In my entire life…

To lift that ring,
From that case,
Setting free the spirit
Of this proposal.

Then…
In the hushed silence,
With all the eyes of the others,
Focused,
On this sight…

On us,

I will ask her to marry me,
And pray,
That she will say
“Yes.”

Then,

Finally,

Then…

I can breathe again.

 

 

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

6 thoughts on “Then…I Can Breathe Again

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