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Forfattersiden
The famous one
The famous one


Forfattersiden.dk
Forfatter: Frk. Jeff
Skrevet: 2019-01-13 18:58:50
Version: 1.1
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He’s just a man. Just another man.
I keep repeating that to myself, but as our eyes meet across the room
I’m not that sure.

I turn around and chat with the guy next to me. Try to concentrate about our conversation,
but the man at the stage keeps dancing around in my mind.
I take a sip of my beer and glance at him.
He’s so confident when he sings and the tall guy next to me notices that my infatuation is not for him
It doesn’t seem to bother him that much though.

I excuse myself to go have a cigarette, very aware, that I have to cross the room
right in front of the stage.
When he looks at me, I get a feeling of interest that’s been hiding for a long time.
He makes me lose the feeling of control, and I’m not use to that.
Instead of flirting with him, I look down and giggle like I did 15 years ago.
I yell at myself for being so insecure. I don’t recognize that side of me.

The cigarette is lit. I close my eyes and inhale the smoke. I can feel the calmness throughout my body.
Remember, he’s just a man. Just another man.
Until he looks at me again. I’m so drawn to him and it confuses me.
I get the sense that he’s dangerous for me to be around. My attention is only on him.

I put out the smoke and walk back to the bar.
He’s singing something about a woman’s body while looking directly at me.
My reaction makes him laugh and he’s struggling to find his way back to the lyrics.
I need another beer and politely thanks the bartender.

When I turn around, I see him coming towards me.
He’s so polite and intense. Very different from other experiences with the male gender.

When the break’s over, I begin to breathe again.
I don’t know what he is doing to me and my concentration is fading.
An overwhelming feeling of actually wanting to know this man, has taken place in my mind.
Every time he calls my name, I get more and more convinced, that this one won’t be forgotten, when I go home.
Not like the men, I’ve met before him.

When the concert’s over, he invites me for a drink, before he has to go home.
The way he talks make me smile, and he reads me like no one else does.
It’s a rare and very liberating experience for me.
He tells me things that I don’t think he talks about that often.

My smile fades on a certain subject, and I know he notices it.
For this one night, I won’t give it any attention.
Although I know, it’s waiting for me to confront in the morning.

I see some of his tells, and my confidence is finding its way back to me.
I think he likes that version of me as well. I smile and drink the rest of my beer.
I’m so attracted to this man, even though I know he’s not good for me.

We talk for hours before we finally decide to go home.
As I leave him, there’s no longer a doubt in my mind.
He is not just another man.
This one’s going to hurt me for a change.

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