Starry Nights and Stolen Kisses

A Face to a Feeling

The wind whips the fabric of my skirt around my ankles and the ends of my hair flap freely around my face. Darkness surrounds me. There are no lights except for the stars above me, so bright they illuminate the mountain peaks that surround me. A coyote howl in the distance is met by the replies of its pack as they hunt for food. I am alone in the vastness of the desert wilderness. Oddly, I am not afraid. I feel empowered in my solitude. I see light coming from a fire in the distance and walk towards it, feeling it draw me to its flickering dance. My feet have a mind of their own and they carry me forward, passing tumbleweeds and Joshua Trees while the whistle of the wind fills my ears with its mesmerizing white noise. My journey ends at the clearing that is home to the burning pile of shrubs. A blanket spread across the ground is the only inhabitant in the sanctuary of this hidden oasis. I approach the fire and feel its heat transfer to my tender skin. 

Hypnotized by its fury, I don't know that I am not alone until firm hands make contact with my shoulders and then slowly skim down my arms until fingers intertwine with mine. I know these hands. I know the smell of the man nestled into the hair at the base of my neck. His hands transfer to the curve of my hips. His grip is firm as he glides his hands up to the base of my shirt, slipping his fingers underneath my shirt, running the tips across the length of my navel. His touch melts my bones and I am suspended vertically only by the strength of his right arm wrapped tightly around me. The beat of my heart picks up as his hand migrates from my belly, up into the valley between my breasts and over the gentle curve of my collar bones. I am pulled into him so I feel the strength of him behind me. His sensuous lips make contact with the column of my neck and my head falls back onto his shoulder. I succumb to his kisses, filled with  relentless passion. He whispers my name into my ear as the wind encircles us in a protective cocoon. "Alexis..." I turn in his arms to meet his lips, but before I can see his face...

"Alexis!" 

I am pulled away from him, an invisible force wrenching me away before I could meet his eyes and match his face to the feeling of familiarity I have for the essence of this man. 

"Alexis, for the love of Pete, wake up!"

My journey is repeated in reverse, as the fire pulls out of focus and the mountain peeks surround me once again. The stars, my only light until they merge into one bright light that fills my consciousness.

"Moooom, it's bright. Shut the curtains!"

"Alexis, you need to get up and shower. For the love of God, you need to shower. You have moped in this bed for three days and it's time that you rejoin the living. "

"If there is any human decency in your being, please close the curtains! It hurts me. I'm melting." I try to dampen the pain by smothering my face in my pillows. 

"You're being dramatic. As always. I really don't know where you get that gene." My mother in all her hurricane glory sweeps around my room, grabbing dirty laundry and discarded dishes.

"Mom, leave it. I don't need you to clean up after me. I can handle it."

Ignoring my protests, she grabs one last cup hiding in my book shelf and sweeps out of my room leaving the door open, a clear signal to the troops that Auntie Alex is open for business. Before I can scramble out of bed and hustle to shut the door in her wake, I hear wild calls and a herd of elephants stampeding in my direction. Panicked, I grab a robe and dash to the bathroom across the hall and lock the door as the thundering pack of boys round the corner and stop in their tracks at my bedroom door.

"Where did she go?" I suppress a chuckle as I listen to them debate what could have happened to me. None of them thought to check the bathroom door immediately behind them. "Let's go ask Grandma if she saw Auntie Alex climb out her window." You know, the kid has good ideas. Why don't I sneak out of the window. Walk of shame my way to freedom. Is it a walk of shame if you're crawling out of your own window? And you didn't do anything to allegedly be ashamed of? Or maybe that's where the shame comes in. That you had to crawl out of your own window to escape the suffocating love of your family? Man, I am a drama queen. 

It's amazing what 30 minutes of hot water can do for you. I know I should feel bad about a 30-minute shower in the desert, but I don't. It takes me that long to shake off the feeling of loss that my dream left me with. Rivulets of water cascade down my face and arms while I try to hang onto every piece of detail that I can remember. Every time I come home, I have the same dream. I don't know how I know this man, I can never see his face, but his aura is so familiar to me. Its like coming home at the end of an interminable day and you pull up and see the lights on and open the door to something smelling delicious and you feel a sense of belonging. That's how I feel in the embrace of my desert man,  Oh boy, I have to get out of this shower or its going to take on a whole new energy and with nephews and parental units running about, it doesn't feel like the time or place to indulge in the rest of my fantasy. 

A blow dry and a little deodorant and I'm like a whole new woman. Now that I am wearing clothes that don't have an elastic waist band, I decide that my mother is right and it's time to rejoin the human race. Grabbing my keys, I stealthily make my way out of my room, down the hallway and through the front door before being spotted by my faithful knights in shining t-shirts. I start the car and rattle off a quick text to my mom letting her know I have set out to seek my fortune by way of some caffeine and would return...at some point. I am a grown up, I don't have to account for my whereabouts 24/7. Right? Right. That's the ole independent spirit for you. 

Needing a bit of a drive, I made my way to the furthest Starbucks away from my parents house. As I parked, I noticed a text message had popped up while I was driving.

Mia: GURL! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE MOVING HOME!!!!!

Me: MIA!!! I came home under duress and have been pouting for three days.

My phone rings almost as soon as I pushed send. 

"Seriously, where are you right now?!"

"I just pulled in at the Starbucks on Bear Valley."

"Don't move, I will be there in 20. And order me a mocha." The phone went dead before I could protest. 

There are some friendships that stand the test of time. Mia is my girl. We go back to the ninth grade and have been up in each other's business ever since. She spent so much time at my house that she called my parents mom and dad. We have gone long stretches of time without seeing or talking to each other between my career and her travels, but every time we get back together, it's like no time has passed and she is the one person that can handle all of the crazy that comes out of my brain. Mia is a free spirit and refuses to be tethered to any form of convention. With her wild pixie hair cut and sleeves of tattoos on both arms, she doesn't subscribe to the concept of a career. Instead, she explores what interests her and once her interest has run its course, she moves on to the next flight of fancy. So needless to say, she is a jack of all trades with a raging case of wanderlust. She has taught English in Korea, waited tables in pubs in London, worked on a cruise ship as an entertainer and started a mommy blog even though she doesn't have kids. That might sound crazy to you, but it was actually a really good blog and had over 100,000 subscribers until she got bored and shut the site down. I mean, who does that? My girl, Mia does. A true to herself original. 

"Grande Mocha and Grande Carmel Machiato for Alexis." 

Reaching the counter, I grab my drinks and as I turn to head to a table, I collide with a solid wall, spilling my drinks all over the both of us. It's a shame that he chose to wear white today. That was a bold choice. I never wear white, it's like asking for trouble by tempting the universe. Without fail, whenever I am wearing white, I inevitably spill something on it or ruin it one way or another before the day is over. It looks like it doesn't even have to be me wearing the white garment for the universe to punish me for some one else's life choices.

"Oh no, oh my god. I am so sorry. Are there napkins, let me get some napkins." stumbling around trying to find napkins, I resemble a baby dinosaur unused to its extremities rather than a well put together professional woman. 

"I've got it, it's okay." He put a hand on my shoulder to get my attention and an odd sense of calm comes over me. I look up and as recognition dawns on both of our faces, Mia bursts through the door in a blaze of Sagittarius glory.