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inner city wrist affairs.
*05.02.03* @ *11:46 a.m.*
while i was flying home to florida for spring break hell, i met this boy on the plane. the first thing he did was flash me his tattoo on his inner wrist and said, "i know we're going to have a lot in common."
we explained the meanings behind our inner wrist tattoos [my feminist symbols and his religious emblems], bonded over living in the city, and ate blue potato chips. he gave me his phone number and a hug when i left him at baggage claim. i shoved the number in my back pocket with no intent to call him because i was thinking in terms of forever with someone else.
last night, i ran into him in the village. we made some small talk. he noticed that the st. croix wedding band bracelet i wear was turned the other way, signifying my bachelorette lifestyle's return.
at some point, i threw my arms up in that all too animated way of story telling i tend to engage in, and before they fell back down, he grabbed my arms and kissed my inner wrists very gently.
i cried really hard right there in the east village...right by the cube because he was tall and thick, adorable and stable, but it's too soon for this.
that must have been written on my face because he cupped my face and said,
"i wanted to do that when we were on the plane, but obviously, i couldn't. i don't want to know the details, but i understand if it's this is too soon for you. i understand that you still hurt. i just wanted to kiss you and everything that you stand for."
i felt a smile somewhere inside of me. he had laughter in his eyes and full, pink lips. i just kissed the side of his face, scribbled my phone number onto his wrist, and carried my broken hearted self home...