“The magic was all in the finishing touches.”
Someone told me there is a website somewhere that documents the many different ways English is misused throughout the world, but I am too tired to look it up. Besides I am not certain I want to share the story about what took place in room #1435 with anyone else.
Sure, I could make up some funny line about about a condom wrapper that talked about finishing touches and the magic it claimed to have, but it wouldn’t work for me.
You could blame it on my fragile male ego and how embarrassed I was when we had to throw that condom out because my flag wouldn’t rise for the occasion. I know you said I shouldn’t feel badly about it and that you thought it was cute to see my red face.
We have both been around long enough to know that these things happen and that there ways to deal with them that make it work for everyone. Hell, you proved to both of us it wasn’t a big deal and that all systems were go.
I can’t remember the last time any of those things happened. I can’t remember the last time I was so nervous that things didn’t respond the way I expected them to and I can’t thank you enough for making me comfortable enough to stop wondering if age had caught up to me.
Nor can I thank you enough for showing me I am not old, not old at all. Damn, you did things that no one else has done and made me remember the 18 year-old kid who dreamed about this sort of experience.
But the difference between then and now is the decades have taught me that some memories are special because they aren’t shared with others.
Two hours ago we stood on the balcony overlooking Kowloon Bay and I asked you to marry me. You laughed and said you would think about it, but then you noticed I wasn’t laughing.
I was smiling, but not laughing because I am serious.
You said we live in different worlds and asked me for a plan. I asked for six months to wrap up my affairs in Hong Kong and said I would move back to the states.
“Ten years ago you said you would move and you never did so we both moved on, what is the difference now. Back then we lived hours apart, now it is worlds.”
Your words are still ringing in my ears. I heard the anger and the pain but I saw hope in your eyes. It is why I told you that was then and this is now. We aren’t who we were but that doesn’t mean things can never be.
It just means the timing wasn’t right and that all we need is a chance. If you open your eyes you might be surprised to see the opportunity is there because the miles have melted away.
And maybe one day we’ll wake up in our bedroom and smile because we’ll know from experience that “The magic was all in the finishing touches.”