the split-second recognition

There's a moment in every boy-girl friendship when everything changes.

When you're doing the same things you're always doing together - chatting, drinking, dancing - and feel one of the million minutes spent together open up and create a different kind of space. A space that holds a different realm of possibilities and suddenly see things very differently.

He made me feel tiny, compared to his broad shoulders and 6 foot 1 height.
My adoration for the look in the eyes of the man about to kiss me is something I've never kept secret.
The way he looked in my eyes before looking down at my lips then in my eyes again is a rush no drug can simulate.
It's the look of a man going after the object of his desire.
The carnal need to conquer.
To take.
To have.

And so for the next several hours, we giggled.
As we quickly undressed each other, we stopped to laugh as we fell onto the bed.
I felt slightly nervous as I sat on the bed with him kneeled before me, my hands on his waistband, moments before.
Then let out a sweet sigh of relief when as I pulled his boxers down it almost slapped me in the face.

Furious were his lips.
We knocked over his computer.
And he laid me down, his hand on my back supporting me gently.
Words can't describe the feel of the weight of a man pushing you into the bed.
And whether or not this event repeats itself is not the question.
Because there is no question, and, thus, no answer.
Just a single night of fun between two people who call each other "friend".

So I'll just say this...I was given the gift of a boy more than five years my junior the night before I turned 28.
We cast shadows on the wall while low in the background The Raconteurs played.