I will never forget the look in his eyes.
The way he tried to hide the full extent of his joy.
I wish I had looked a little closer at my own reflection in his oversized glasses. I think I had the same expression of glee, but I don't know for sure. I could feel my cheeks using a muscle that is reserved for the most joyous of smiles, I know I returned the sentiment in my own way, I just wish I knew what I looked like in that moment. I'm sure I have never looked happier.
It had been years since we'd spoken. Not that there was ever a falling out, but that it's not easy to maintain a friendship when living in different cities and coming from different generations. Yet we talked with the comfortable familiarity one would find between long-term lovers or close family.
It was nothing more than a chance encounter and nothing less than fateful. I fell asleep in his lap that night.
It is that look; the look he had when he saw me for the first time in years, that I've been dying to see again in someone (anyone) whom I care for. A look that gives me a feeling not of being needed, but of being fully appreciated and wanted.
I didn't realize until well after the fact (read: while writing this) that his look and the feeling that came with it were exactly what I was looking for when I opened the door of my basement apartment on December 26th, 2009.
The person on the other side of the door had an undeniable look of happiness, relief and whatever other emotions that came with being reunited with someone you love, but it was not the same.
It was not innocent.
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