Mama Says Om: Saunter

6.24.2006

I sat in class that first morning, eyeing the other students in the room. I was a transfer student who knew no one, I looked around for a friendly face. As class was about to start you sauntered into the room. Your hair was a wild mess of long dark wavy curls that you pulled into a ponytail after you sat down. You wore jeans with holes and patches, I wondered who sewed the patches on for you. You sat in the front row, 2 seats up from me and I loved your hair.

Each day I would get to class a bit early and sit in the same seat. I would watch you walk in to the classroom, always confident and always laughing. I would sit behind you and wait to catch your eye and say hello or to be assigned a group project with you. It seemed to never happen. After class we would both walk to the union, me several steps before or after you. We would each get a coffee and sit at different tables. I would glance up from my crossword puzzle to gaze your way. We never made eye contact. Later, I learned that you wanted to meet me as much as I you. I remember the first time I saw you out at a bar. You were dancing, silly fun, I don't take myself to seriously dancing and oh, that hair.

Then one day I watched you walk through the door and I knew, I knew that you were the man I was going to marry, we hadn't even said hello to each other. It was Bob I met first, we worked on a project together, and then he introduced me to you. By spring we were the best of friends. "Are you dating?" everyone would ask. No, we are just friends. You talked me into working at camp with you. Each night we would sit by the fire, first sitting next to each other, then holding hands, later we would cuddle and you would kiss me goodnight on the head.

Then one night a kiss.

Now, 13 years later, I wait each night for you to saunter in through our door. I only wish you still had that hair.