Faithfully

From the convenient store across the street emerged a 6 foot 4 inch tall figure of a man who glanced in my direction before jumping out into the road and striding confidently over to the driver’s side door of the gold truck. He stopped for a moment and stared in my direction with his hand on the door handle as I proceeded to slow down and pass him. I looked at his face and suddenly my breath caught in my throat. My heart raced in my chest when I saw the dark brown neatly cut hair, the finely chiseled features of his face and the carefully groomed sideburns that came down both sides of his face to connect with the just as neatly groomed goatee and moustache. His eyes seemed to connect with mine just for a second before he jumped up into that beautiful truck. Embarrassed, I quickly returned my eyes to the road and finished the drive home. Mentally and verbally, I berated myself for staring at the man whom I had never met. It was “rude” to stare, at least that was what I had been told growing up. I felt as if he was still watching me and almost raced up the outside stairs to my new apartment. Shutting the door behind me, I forced myself to relax and tried to go about following the motions to go to sleep. But his face stayed with me and I suddenly knew that I had to meet this man who seemed to me as if he were a god.