For what seems like a century of courtship and a millennium of (non-willing) celibacy I have waited for this exact moment. The moment where she shimmies her shorts down to her ankles hops her right leg out of the cotton nothings and slides them across the cold tile of my dorm room with her left foot, leaving her with nothing on but a pair of well-loved mismatched, knee-high toe-socks (which a cynical, less poetic asshole would say were dirty, faded and full of holes) I have been waiting for the moment where she bites at her cuticles nervously as she stares at me through her lashes gummed with the day’s mascara. Her auburn hair falls to her clavicle, and has that awkward kink that it gets in it when she wears her hair in a tight bun. She complains about that kink with the frequency and certainty of the sun setting in the East….West? East. Fuck if I know, I can’t keep anything straight while my hands are caressing the two dimples that should be on her cheeks, but instead have migrated their way to the small of her back, punctuating her best asset right below. She shivers as my hands trace every one of her vertebrae. Goosebumps firework across her bare skin and my fingers deftly read the words

“Oh my God”

…

Huh.

I’ve never seen this before.

Then again, I’ve never touched a naked…anything before. Besides myself. And I don’t think you can read your own goosebumps via braille. It’s like tickling yourself: impossible. I mean, reading Goosebump Braille seems crazytown on its own. I’m not even blind. I learned how to read braille this summer. What else is a friendless loser Misunderstood Introvert supposed to do with his time? I finished reading my first book in braille five months prior in the very desk that sits casually by my loft’s ladder that me and Woman of My Dreams are bumping up against.

The same Woman who is now staring at me with “What the Fuck” knitted across her eyebrows.

Oh shit. I’ve stopped doing…anything.

“Is something wrong? You know we don’t have to do this if you feel uncomfortable. We can just watch The Room again…” she sighed.

There is a little more. But I can't seem to word it very well.