The Stranger

A Poem by Lauren

Exaggerated narrative poem

There was something so tragically beautiful about her. The way she glided across the livingroom was mesmerizing, graceful yet clumsy all in one. I’d never seen anyone like her before, she was scruffy, groggy and hauntingly beautiful. Time froze and she walked past me. I couldn't help staring.

She had been trailed from her bed, awoken from her night's sleep by her house mates, all because they knew she had to meet the stranger in her livingroom. They clearly knew something that we had yet to discover. Yet somehow, even at 2am, while still half asleep she was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. She was familiar, almost like i knew her yet this was our first encounter. She was tiny in every aspect of the word. Her short shorts and oversized sweater making that even more apparent than it would have been regardless of her attire. Her eyes were as blue as the sky on a clear summer day, not even her large glasses could hide that. Her eyes were the same color as the summer sky I watched rolling by as a child, lying in the middle of the field beside my house, on the freshly cut grass, staring at the few clouds that littered the perfect sky.

There was four of us in the room, the conversation between us was forced and uncomfortable although we were not strangers, quite the opposite, the only strangers were me and her. I did not speak to her for the first hour, nor did she speak to me. I was afraid. Afraid that i would make a fool of myself. Afraid she would see right through me. Afraid i had not caught her eye the way she had mine. Afraid that she had not felt the same feeling in the pit of her stomach that i had. Afraid that i was not good enough for her. Afraid that if i looked at her again, as she sat so innocently like she had no idea how perfect she was, that i would not be able to bring myself to look away from her. Afraid of what this complete stranger was making me feel.

Then it happened. We spoke. I spoke to her first, i knew she wasn’t expecting it because she looked shocked yet intrigued all at once. “I thought Sinn Feinn was a person until last week”. It was ridiculous but i knew i had to say something or i would never say anything and i couldn’t leave that house without getting to know her. It worked, she laughed. We left the room briefly after that to enjoy a cigarette in the crisp Autumn air and when we returned to the room the company we had was fast asleep. I had also lost my seat to a sleeping man’s legs. The only chair left was hers. I had every faith that she was going to offer to order me a taxi at this point, but instead she called me to her. How could I decline, she already had me hooked.

We spent the night sitting in the same spot. I was completely and utterly invested in every word she said, clinging to every syllable that left her mouth like a junkie waiting on a fix.

We spent 6 hours talking that night. And yet there was not a single tired sigh, eye rub or rolling of the eyes at any of my ridiculous comments. Only time. Time to talk. Time to listen. Time for each other.

We were in a bubble, no recognition of the outside world, only each other. There wasn’t a single topic we didn’t discuss that night, but the truth is I don’t remember much of what we actually talked about. Only how i was so hypnotized by her, nothing else mattered bar talking to her. We joked and laughed and she was warm. She was warm, familiar, comforting and welcoming. She was innocently oblivious to how invested I was yet she led the night, and while sat in our chair with the glow of the street lights shining in through the crack in her curtains, everything in that moment was right. There was no one else in the world, only the sanctuary of our bubble.

Our friends woke at 7am and left to go to bed, that left the sofa and the chair free yet i didn't move. Nor did she. We were both caught in a night we didn’t want to end, even though the glow of the distant sun rise had now replaced the moonlight and the street lamps had been switched off, we both refused to accept it was time to call and end to our wonderful night.

Then it happened. Just as the living room doors latch had caught in its circular prison behind our friends she kissed me. I knew how the latch felt, trapped and helpless in its holding place because thats exactly how i felt. Trapped and helpless. I wasn’t trapped in this strange house physically of course, but i knew there and then that this girl had stolen me from anyone else. I couldn’t bare being parted from her, even for a second. I was addicted already, those kisses were perfect. They were soft yet firm, petite but the perfect size for mine. I was like a child eating sweets for the first time in their lives, i wanted more, i wanted her.