Wish me

I walk up the path to your house, or at least to what I think is your house. The large number of cars parked on the street and onto the driveway suggest that it is the house with the party.

The bright yellow lights spilling out of the windows of the front rooms illuminate the steps and the front porch. I pause and look inside but don't spot you among the beautiful people in colorful sweaters holding drinks visible through the windows. When there is no answer to my knocking, I open the front door and let myself into the din of the conversations. It is warm inside the house, a welcome relief from the cold dark outside. When I take off my coat to find a place to hang it, I don't recognize the brown leather coat, handsome but well worn, that I am holding in my hand. I feel inside the pockets but they are empty.

"The coat closet's full, I am afraid. You will have to put it on the pile of coats in the dining room corner."

"Thanks. I was wondering what to do with the coat," I say, and extend my hand to the woman with the directions. "I am Michael, a friend of the birthday girl."

"And I am Stephanie. Also a friend of the birthday girl." she said, suppressing a giggle to shake my hand. "Come get a drink when you are ready."

I watched her weave her way back through the folks hanging out in the passageway, hoping she'd walk up to you.

Not caring to figure out the coat anymore, I deposit it in the dining room and head towards the kitchen. I don't recognize anyone that I see.

A glass of red wine in hand, I walk around to look for you in the rooms filled with conversations.

"Aren't you going to wish me?," you ask from behind me.

"I have", I say under my breath before turning around to face you, "I have wished for you all of my life."

Magic

Turn your magic on
To me she'd say
Everything you want is a dream away
                                     --------------------  From "Adventure of a Lifetime" by Coldplay

The din of the restaurant around us fades as my eyes focus on your lips. You are telling me something you are excited about, but your words flow past me. I am enthralled by the light in your eyes, the way your raven hair frames your face, the way your mouth shapes the words you are saying, your unadorned neck moving ever so slightly as you speak. I echo the smile in your eyes and reach for your free hand with mine, caressing it ever so slightly. You pause to put a forkfull of pasta into your mouth and I raise my glass of wine to you. With a clink you touch your glass to mine and we both enjoy the wine for a bit.

"You weren't listening to me, were you?"

"I was listening to every little movement of your face."

"What am I going to do with you?," you say, laughing happily.

"I know exactly what I am going to do with you. When we get home, that is." I reach across to caress your lips briefly.

"Michael, be serious!"

"I couldn't be more serious, my love. It is your birthday and I have a nightful of dreams to make."