The Touch of a Butterfly

My eyes gazed around the room, taking in the vibrant atmosphere in the room, all the jovial conversations and happenings that were going on. A couple talking to an older lady, the woman linking her arm with her partner and resting her head on his shoulder. A group of women gossiping about something or other, the room was filled with noise. But even with all the sounds and sights around me, my attention always found itself fixated on one woman on the other side of the room. Fate had it that I was sitting in a way in which I could make the odd glance her way, just to soak in her presence. I had seen her around before at other events, and each time I had been mesmerised. But never had I spoken to her. Never had I had the nerves to get up and introduce myself. The closest I had gotten was at one party where she had needed to get past me as there was a crowd, and our eyes met briefly as she glided on by.

But tonight was going to be different. I was sure of it. Well, I wasn’t, but I had plied myself with enough blind optimism and wine that I thought that anything was possible. So, a few glasses later and I started to move around the room. I started talking to a man at the bar, who as it turned out worked for a company that had sponsored the night. I chatted to him and a few other people, schmoozing the room as best as I could. I made a point of staying in the same area, as more people came over to talk to us. I think I hit a sweet spot of alcohol consumption, as I managed to speak my mind freely, but not in the dysfunctional manner my grammar usually degrades itself to after drinking.

I looked back over to her, wishing I could be in her conversation, in her presence, just around her. I made a passing remark about how it’d be cool to talk to her, and the man I was talking to jumped to attention and said he could get them over. He knew her! Bless the heavens, it was going to happen. I felt butterflies erupt throughout my whole body as I tried to keep my composure. She walked over and greeted the man, and her eyes met mine. And then we spoke. We spoke, and I was happier than I think I’ve ever been. We made small talk and found common interests, speaking of faraway cities and their beauty.

I don’t exactly recall how long we spoke for, it was a flurry and yet I was hung on every word that left her lips. I never wanted it to end. Eventually someone she was with said they had to go and they said their goodbyes. I wished with every bone in my body to leave with her, but I did my best to play it cool and move as seamlessly as I could back into conversation with the others. The facade held grip for a while, all the while the realness of what just happened sunk in and I felt the butterflies come back.

God, she’s gorgeous.


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