Anca Dunavete

Picture this: there’s an empty space next to you at the table. You make it the shape of everything you need. Now you say hello. This is you at your best, also known as Your Strength, but you haven’t been properly introduced yet. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know that it’s yours. You only know that you like its presence. You let it vanish as you keep doubting your power.

Or you walk to work, heels echoing on the pavement, a bit of warmth from bed still clinging to you. You take a seat on the bus and fall asleep to the sound of traffic. The night before, you sat at your desk, hoping it would knock on your door, take off its wet clothes and join you by the fire. Add a glass or two of red wine to the picture.

You were tired but couldn’t fall asleep, so you waited and waited until dawn. You felt frustrated, not to say exhausted. You were only just starting to get to know each other, and you couldn’t grab it and make it your own. You don’t know that finding your superpower isn’t like dating.

That it’s already in your hands. That you don’t have to wait for it to find you. That you find it by creating it yourself. All you know is that inspiration seems nice, but it left you without a word and you don’t know if you’ll ever see each other again.

Or a beautiful man smiles at you like there’s no tomorrow. He has perfect teeth, and when he laughs, you wonder what all the fuss was ever about—that fuss being your whole life until you met. Soon you are making out in the corner booth of a bar that you both decide is now your bar.

The light is dim and smoky, and he lets go of his secrets in your mouth, and you learn what his thoughts, dreams, and fears taste like. You’ve never known this much about another person before. He gently bites your neck, and you open your eyes again and see him in the half-light. You know that you’ve only scratched the surface before him.

Steam rises from both of your cups at the same time, and when he says, ‘Look, baby, these tornadoes are for you,’ you watch. You can’t stop watching what he’s showing you, and you don’t think about how long he’ll be there, because there’s nothing better than meeting someone who gets you. You just don’t know that that someone is you and can stay as long as you want.

You’ll know these moments as they pass you by. They’ll come to you, and you’ll feel like you’re coming home, one sweet encounter at a time.