The Poet

My dear poet and I met through Tinder. Yes, Tinder. Who knew there would be some decent, honest to God, good men on there? It certainly baffled me. 

I joined Tinder out of curiosity and boredom. I was never planning to actually meet people on there because quite frankly, I was tired of dating. The Soldier drained me emotionally and I wasn’t prepared to meet other people just yet.

And so the story begins. Girl swipes right on a decent looking guy. Guy sends her a silly message. Girl is amused. Communication commences. We texted and talked on the phone for a week before we actually met. Our phone conversations ranged from poetry, our backgrounds, music, movies and just overall random stuff. What really peaked my interest was his uncanny way with words. We began to text each other verses, prose and lyrics which is a sure fire way to catch my attention (I love all things creative).

When we finally met I was pleasantly surprised at how handsome the guy actually was. I’m not very photogenic and his photos didn’t do him justice either. Lucky me.

For the first time in a long, long time I felt something. I felt a pull to this guy that was unmatched to my previous attractions. Perhaps because we had established a connection that wasn’t solely based on physical interactions or maybe because our chemistry transcended the typical first date camaraderie. This was also the first time I asked a man to kiss me as he walked away. Where this newfound confidence came from, I have no clue but it certainly worked in my favor.

This magnetism has only grown stronger as the days go by and I revel at the nights spent melted into each other. Words and verses bang and collide in my brain when I see him. I call him my muse. He inspires me to write which is a feeling I simply adore. I guess, I adore him too.

Quote of the night:

Him: You make me happy.

Hearing those words make me happier than I could possibly imagine.