Remember that scene in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE? when James Stewart and Donna Reid were outside, under a moonlit sky, staring, all big eyed at each other, and waiting for the right moment to have a first kiss? James Stewart's romantic monologue deteriorated into a long, fantastic speech about how he would lasso the moon for her, so she could swallow it, and she would glow all the way down to the tips of her hair. He was going to go on, but was interrupted by an old man sitting on his porch, who said, "Why don't you kiss her instead of talking her to death?" The best line in the whole movie was that one, as far as I'm concerned.
Now I like to be kissed, but I really enjoy a man who can talk me to death, and look into my eyes at the same time. It doesn't matter if he's talking about TV shows, or blues music, or a what happened to him that day. A man who is interested in telling me something, anything about what he thinks, and can engage me about any number of topics is worth all the moonbeams in the night sky to me. Maybe I'll get to kiss him later, maybe I won't, but I feel like I've been taken to Paris during that conversation. I even dream about it.
One night I had a dream about a certain man I talk to on the phone. In the dream, we lived in the same apartment building, and one day, I could not find my keys. I knocked on his door and asked if he would help me find them. He helped me look, and then I realized I'd had them in my jacket pocket, all along. I thanked him for helping me, and said as I was leaving, " I wish I could go somewhere with you and just talk."
"Have you ever been to Paris?" he answered, smiling into my eyes.
"Yes," I giggled, "but not in many years."
Paris and moonbeams, Wow!!!
There are moonbeams in Dublin, too.
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