MOTIONS...

I motioned to him. Every bit of me wanted to kill him on the spot – just strangle him in front of all those people, showing them how human he was. But there was this one tiny bit of me who wanted to hold him close; tight in a warm embrace. That little bit won. As it has always had, it won over my better judgment.

I motioned to him. He turned and our eyes met. His eyes gleamed, mine did the exact same, cliché, thing. And as distance shortened I was sure I could feel his heart beating as fast as mine. He was a whiff away and his smell that brought a rush of memories and familiarity engulfed me in sudden ecstasy. How long has it been? The thought prevailed. A month, I reckoned. These thoughts circled my mind.

I motioned to him. It was a month since I left him. Or was it he who left me? No, yes, it was him. He left me right in the middle of our fist year anniversary dinner. Yes. I cooked up a storm for our special day. But he left me – he left with such fleeting words. I don’t think I can go on knowing I can’t love you as much as you love me. He said these words with such intensity that almost brought me to thinking that this was all sincere and not just another cliché break-up line. It was; a month later I found out from my friend’s cousin’s friend that he had been seeing a college professor for over 5 months – behind my back and behind that poor teacher’s wife and two kids. Fucked up. What a fucked up guy.

I motioned to him. He then motioned to me. His hair flipped in response to the sudden breeze that swept the hall – another very cliché detail. He reached to take me into his arms and I suddenly jerk back.

I motioned to him, right hand raised high. I motioned, boy did I motion. Right on his left cheek – I motioned. I left him a token of my appreciation. I guess that time I won.