You Make Me Feel...
I have three days until Valentine's Day. I sit at my polished mahogany desk, Tchaikovsky thundering behind me, and ponder how to further woo Julie, the woman I'm falling in love with. I consider taking her out of town for the weekend, but a lack of funding precludes a trip. I could send her flowers if I hadn't sent her roses a month prior. Maybe I should take her out to dinner-- no, a simple dinner reeks of simplicity. "Hmm," I mumble, "what can we do that's romantic and doesn't cost very much?" It comes to me in a flash of insight: I can replay our first date. The plan crystallizes as our first date replays through my mind. We'll journey to the beach in the afternoon. We'll eat at that little pizza place. What did they call it? Oh, yeah; it's named Felipe's. Sentimental value increases the greasy joint's romantic appeal. After dinner, I'll offer her my arm and we will meander down the boardwalk preceding sunset. When our feet bring us below the Pacific Palms Hotel where our lips first touched, I'll kiss her again. When our intimate embrace concludes, I'll guide her farther along the boardwalk to the gray concrete bench we held each other on that beautiful night. Sitting on that too-uncomfortable bench, I will cradle her in my
Thankfully, they can easily be understood and there are no major mistakes. More importantly, the music plays when read. arms and watch the sun slide below the horizon. My body shivers as I envisage holding her tight to keep her warm. We'll sit there, with her wrapped tightly in my arms! SLAM! I smack a mental wall. Nothing fresh enters my mind. For the first time I lean back and look at my very soul splayed upon the paper before me. With surprise, I note that I actually have two pages of notes. Words clog every open space, even the margins, of the first page. The second page has almost as little free space as the first. It takes me a moment to puzzle through what I have written. Elation fills me. What an amazing thing I've done. I could write a fifteen-page letter with all of this! I know that with this page of abbreviated feelings, I can tell Julie just how much I cared for her. I find no inspiration for the introduction so I begin simply: "My dearest Julie". I concentrate on the flow of my writing, ensuring that each sentence embraces the last, the letter's melody all the while resonating through my body. The harmony traps me and Tchaikovsky fades to oblivion. I lose myself to the words. My hand tingles and I stop, knowing that not ceasing will reduce my legibility to that of an autistic-blind monk with epilepsy! I look over the pages, and grunt in approval. letter. I will bare my heart to her and see if she makes me go stag. I shake blood and life back into my fingers and recommence the song. Before I can even start I feel an irresistible desire to construct a simple list. It will comprise many of the things I love about her: "your smile, the way you bites your lip, that you laughs at my jokes, even the stupid ones, how you hold my hand as soon as I'm within reach," etc. The inventory complete, I begin the song anew. The clock hands s
Some common words found in the essay are:
Cox Arena, Palms Hotel, Valentine's Day, Andrea Huggins, Felipe's Sentimental, Olive Garden, , desk drawer, arms watch, write letter, seventh grade,
Approximate Word count = 1261
Approximate Pages = 5 (250 words per page double spaced)
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