Time hop

There’s too much wine and not enough food in my stomach, but I don’t care. My heart is jumping between my stomach and my throat and when he kissed me I couldn’t remember how to breath. Every touch is fire, and when he suggests a shower I realize it’s the same question he’s been asking for eleven years but for the first time it has a different answer. We take our wine glasses with us to the bathroom and run the water as hot as we can stand. Somehow there is music, and then my dress slips down around my ankles and once again I can’t breath. Naked we slow dance to country music and giggle into each other’s shoulders and let the steam engulf us until we are floating in clouds of intoxicated bliss.
Under the water we laugh and kiss but mostly play. Spitting water he turns and looks at me over his shoulder, and in that moment I think that I will see his grin for the rest of my life. It’s never the moments that you think you’re going to remember that get etched in your mind, somehow the history of the world, the history of us skips beats.
One moment I am laughing as he spins me, flying through the air with his hand on the small of my back to live fiddle music. Then we are in his room and I’m sliding my Walmart bra off, too shy to turn around, and lying down to feel his oiled hands sliding over my back. A semester later in the student lounge, late late and night and he’s straddling me before looking down and telling me that he’s never seen so much want in anyone’s eyes before.  Then the house on John st, his powerful arms throwing me almost off the bed and pinning me down until I can’t move, my struggles delightfully contained. And then, this shower. There are other flashes, the lake and the zombie movies- but they’re always just flashes. Looking back, there are so many delightful moments lost to time- before I had tried to catch them all, lock them in a trunk at the back of my mind to be taken out and examined at length when my thoughts inevitably turned into the could have, should have.
And now? With the possibility of a lifetime of moments to come, I know I won’t capture them all. And maybe I don’t need to. I hope, four decades from now I can look back and see more jumps in time. More flashes of blue eyes and soft hands on my skin.
This is more than I ever dreamed of. Or rather, it’s exactly what I dreamed of.