Dalila, My Love

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A story of a brief moment of intense love for a stranger.
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Dalila.

Oh how have you done this to me? Once again I find myself in a state of longing for something I know I will never have. I ache for a complete stranger.

Is it because I didn't say goodbye? I have only known you for six hours and I wish I knew you longer. I wish I could have been alone with you for longer.

I arrived with my girlfriend. You were the first I saw. Instantly I knew, you caught my attention and that was that. I had to have you, I had to love you, I had to. Of course I ignored it, and went down to the barbecue with my girlfriend and joined the group. There were others around the fire, other attractions. Yet it was you who was across from me.

You paid me no notice, while I kept being drawn to you. After eating, we all went to play a game of Coup. Of course, you were on my team! As the game went on and I continued to be unsuccessful with my throws, you and I passed the sticks to each other here and there. I was so close to you that I felt you. We stood so close together it made me cry inside. You are only about as tall as my shoulder, if even, but every time you stood in front of me to aim it was like you fitted. Our team lost.

You were in my mind, I gathered from the way you held yourself that you are a shy person. Small, brown haired, bespectacled and petite. I regarded you not sexually, yet I wished to have you. I wished to leave into the woods with you. I wanted too much to expell the rest of us and be with you. How I wanted to, and still want to, hold you. You are the type of woman that I simply can't resist. Small and shy. Intelligent. From what I could tell, you are also Italian. There is no wonder that the attraction was instant. My kryptonite. My weakness.

As the night progressed you disappeared while I played soccer with the others. When the game was suggested I saw you shrink away, nervous and afraid. I was too. It isn't my thing either. I played though. It was a joy to see you come back at the end and though I lost the game, I was happy that you were there.

Still, we had little interaction. Still, I needed you. We all went inside and had shots of vodka. Well, I watched. I don't drink. You didn't have much. Normally I would lose interest in a woman who drinks, but for some reason I was entranced by the way you looked; your small features and hands, your deep brown eyes and how your dark hair fell from your shoulders. It had to have been nearly down to your elbow. Long and straight. Again, you were across from me. My girlfriend had been chatting with somebody else, another guy, I didn't give it any thought. I was joking with everyone, and was delighted every time you laughed. Oh, Dalila, I simply wished. I wished for us to be together and I can't believe how brief our encounter was. I was willing to leave my girlfriend and be with you, even though I am happy with her.

The rest left to make food, and for some reason you stayed. I don't know what made me stay, but even my girlfriend was gone. Finally, we were alone. The room was darkened and lit by just one lamp, right beside you. So, the silence began. The game of glances. The only thing between us was the room and the darkness. I was thinking that I should have been talking to you, you were staring into space, quiet. Oh I knew you and I didn't even know your name. You were looking out, and I could see your whole being. I was hoping that the reality of the situation could simply fade away and it would be the two of us, alone and mutually attracted, willing to do anything.

Dalila, how the universe put us together, alone. Dalila, how your body screamed to me, how I screamed for it. We got to talking, just chatting. I asked about you and I was surprised to see how open you were. I learned that you are from Venice and in college studying Art History. I fell for you long ago, but now I was chained to the ground.

Your voice, it was so soft and your personality, you were obviously a shy person. The time between was short and tender. I wanted you, your body. Really though, I simply wanted you close. I wanted you to know that you were safe around me. So I stayed well back, across the room. We were facing each other, and the distance between us was uncomfortable and I wish that I moved closer when I wanted to.

What I loved about it was you were shy, but you trusted me alone with you despite my desires. I would have done nothing despite wanting to. You seemed interested in the conversation and interested in telling me about yourself. I loved it. I could have given my life to keep it from ending.

Everyone suddenly rolled back in and killed what moment we had, our conversation died. They had food and I left the room, only to find you alone in the kitchen, getting your own. Alone again, with you. I felt the attraction to you like a magnet. It hurt, having my body so close to yours. I waited as you got your food and you didn't seem to be bothered when I got close to you. Oh, if we had been put together in the ways that I pained for. If we had met at a different time, in a different way, in a different place, oh if only, it could have been.

You left the kitchen and I hung back to get my food. I forced myself to detach from you but I was already in too deep. I went back to the group and found you sitting at the table, with a seat between you and my girlfriend. I went straight for it and sat beside you. Oh I reveled in your proximity. Somebody else came to sit on your other side and you moved right up beside me, I moved slightly but you pushed up so close to me that I nearly put my arms around you and gave you my love. My intense and burning love for you throbbed like a fresh wound, even though I had only known you for a few hours. You seemed to want to be so close to me, you seemed happy to be beside me. I fear, however, that that was just my wishful thinking. If I said before that our chat alone was my favourite time, I have to correct myself. This closeness, this lack of space between us, the way your body pressed to mine. The way you fitted, like a long time love that had always been there. This my favourite part of it all. It saddened me to know that I couldn't put my arm around your waist and hold your body close.

We then played another game, sardines. One girl went to hide, and we all went to find her. You and I ended up passing by each other so often, you laughed in excitement and I could have professed to you right there that I wanted to leave with you and never return. The opportunities to hold you, to tell you, flew by as quickly as you happily played by. Oh I knew I couldn't.

We had to keep the lights in the hostel off. To add to the game and also because it was midnight. We couldn't leave the hostel, and we couldn't find that girl, at all. She must have left the hostel to hide outside. We searched the place top to bottom and you were one of the last of us to give up. I didn't. I had to find her. For you. There was a moment during our fifth search were you were alone in a room, I assumed it was the one you were staying in.

You were standing alone, you didn't know that I was there but I was looking at you from a dark room behind you. I wanted to stay and watch your alone time, but I knew that I had to leave in case you caught me and thought the worst.

The game ended early the next day and we were tired, having finally managed to find that girl in a room we searched a hundred times. You asked me where she was and I brought you there, alone to the dark room I showed you that she was hidden behind a curtain. The amazement in your tired face made my love for you burn more, and I felt victory in knowing that I was the one that was able to show you the hiding place. You went to leave and I watched after you momentarily, wishing that we could have a moment. I wanted so much for something to happen, a hug, a kiss, a lifetime of love.

The time to leave was upon me and my girlfriend. Me in my endless, enduring stupidity, left without saying goodbye to you. I regret that still. I am angered and upset by it. Even though it was short, it was love. I have to purge it now because I know that I will probably never see you again. The pain of another purging is not something I am used to, it always hurts just as much.

Dalila, my little nineteen year old Italian love, I will miss you, I will think about you and our brief time. I will regret not saying goodbye. I hope that it could mean that in some far off and unlikely time in the future, we will meet again. As if, having not said goodbye, means that we will never be apart.

Dalila, my love.

Dalila.

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