“On soft Spring nights I’ll stand in the yard under the stars – Something good will come out of all things yet – And it will be golden and eternal just like that – There’s no need to say another word.”
― Jack Kerouac
Okay, technically August isn’t Spring. And I couldn’t see any stars, though I wanted to believe they were out there twinkling their approval, getting in on the moment like they would in a Disney cartoon. The light had already started to fade through the cheap yellow curtains at least half an hour before. Now the dimness draped the room in early night.
She was laying on the bed next to me. I was following the line of the curve from her waist to her shoulders with my hand. She was silhouetted against what remained of the light outside. I stared, trying to capture the moment in some fractured memory bank that wasn’t full of bad times. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Everything I’d ever experienced up to that moment meant nothing. The World could have ended as we kissed. Nothing mattered except being exactly in that single moment with her. Maybe, I thought, I really had earned it after all? I was in love. And it felt like I’d never been in love before. I’d missed out, or missed the point, yet here it was – complete and total desire and respect and admiration and a brand new feeling of a cosmic, chemical, soul connection that transcended anything I’d ever experienced: golden and eternal. Kerouac was right. There is no need to say another word.