Obsession: Chapter 1

I never believed in love at first sight. That is, before I saw her. Her long golden hair streaming behind her as she ran down South Street, the graceful strides of her legs carrying her down the street like the wind; carefree and giddy like a schoolgirl. Her blue jeans hugged her body in a way that was obviously intended for its appeal, clinging right where it should cling.

Stopped at a red light, I watched her run past me, towards South Park Street. Each strand of her silky hair shimmering in the sunlight of the bright June afternoon, glistening with it’s own vibrant life as it followed her body’s fluid motions. I caught a glimpse of her remarkable smile, not perfect like some people prefer, but realistic. One of her front teeth had come in crooked, a little back and to the right, but when she smiled as she ran by, I couldn’t help but to do so myself.

I wouldn’t have thought she noticed me as she passed, but something happened. It was almost like she knew I was there, that something would come of the two of us, she and I. As the light turned green and I found myself lost in my thoughts, longing after that remarkable creature, the driver behind me blared his horn, urging me to lurch forward into the intersection. As my Monte Carlo threatened to stall in the middle of the road, she turned; probably to see what the noise was about, and her eyes caught mine. Everything stopped.

My foot was still on the petal, but the car didn’t seem to move. The driver behind me had suddenly lost his voice and his horn had stopped working. Everything had stopped; it was like there was no one at that point in time besides the two of us. Her hazel eyes held me transfixed as she looked at me, she reminded me of a doe; captivated by the headlights of an oncoming car. We shared what seemed an eternity in less then a heartbeat, my heart jumped into my throat when brief glimpses of what we could share together flashed before me. I couldn’t help but smile again, looking at those beautiful, round hazel eyes framed by the most delicate face I had ever beheld haloed by her golden mane, supported by the most tantalizing body I had ever seen. She saw me smile, and returned it shyly, as she continued running.

And then she was gone, lost into the sea of school children and their parents escorting them home from their studies.

Another loud blast from behind me brought me back to my senses and I stepped on the gas. My old Monte Carlo lumbered through the intersection, continuing the route home, west on South Street. I could think of nothing besides what it would feel like to stroke her soft, golden hair, to hold it against my cheek while gazing longingly into her spellbinding eyes.

I know she and I were meant to come together. I can feel it deep inside my soul and heart.

I have to see her again.


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I saw her again today, same time, same place. I had to see her again, maybe to satisfy my longings for another day, maybe to show myself that there was nothing there. But when I saw her, I knew I had driven by again today because I was addicted to her, already.

Rain splattered about, not uncommon for a Halifax summer, bringing the swarms of dew worms onto the sidewalks to be gored en masse. Carefully, as I sat parked at the corner of Robie and South Park streets watching for her, she picked her way through the sprawling worms lying on the walk. Such delicacy and care for life touched me. She didn’t seem to mind the rain, as she laughed every time she stepped in a large puddle by accident, or raised her face to the sky to let the raindrops stream down her fine features.

The rain had plastered the long strands of her golden hair to her head, and hung limply down her back, dripping water. It seemed to heighten her appeal to me, the sleek out-of-the-shower look made my pulse quicken. Today she was wearing a matching pair of black sweat pants and a sweatshirt; both were soaked through and clung to her hips, shoulders and buttocks. She looked better then I had remembered she did three days before, like one of those Greek Goddess I learned about back in school: Tantalizing, yet almost forbidden, taboo.

As I sat there, in the parking lot for the IWK Hospital, watching her walk away from me again, I knew that someday I would have to stop just watching. I would have to talk to her and tell her how I felt. I have never had the best luck talking to members of the fairer sex; I never seemed to come up with the right things to say when it mattered most, only words that didn’t seem like words. I got tongue-tied whenever I attempted to talk to anyone as beautiful as she. No, I have never met anyone as beautiful as she was. She was too good for me, I found myself thinking as I rubbed my hand across the week-old stubble of my ghost of a beard, why would someone like her want anything to do with me? It all started to seem so hopeless.

No longer in the mood to watch what I now believed I could never have, I started my car, the engine turning over after the forth attempt. When I looked up and slipped the car out of park, I saw here standing across the road, looking directly at me. For the second time ever, the world seemed to stop, leaving only the two of us alone, lost in the depths of each other’s souls. I could see every minute gold and silver fleck in her eyes; I believed I could read her thoughts through those beautiful crystalline orbs and they echoed my own. I could feel she was just like me, attracted but afraid to say the wrong thing make the wrong move that would only serve to embarrass her.

It felt like we were one, joined for the brief moment before my Monte Carlo collided with something behind me, jarring me to sudden halt. I broke from my “trance” and turned to look through the rear window at what had hit me. It was a white metal pole filled with concrete placed to keep cars from driving through the large plate glass windows at the front of the building. Putting the car into drive, I pulled forward and looked for her beautiful eyes again, but she was gone. I quickly looked east down the road, towards South Park Street, in time to see her turn right down a residential street. Not trying to seem too anxious, I pulled out into the road, squeezing into the mid-afternoon traffic and drove east down the road, past her street.

Wellington Street.