An Imprint Of Him

"It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend."

―Jacob Black explaining to Bella Swan about imprinting.

In psychology and ethology, imprinting is any kind of phase-sensitive learning (learning occurring at a particular age or a particular life stage) that is rapid and apparently independent of the consequences of behavior. It was first used to describe situations in which an animal or person learns the characteristics of some stimulus, which is therefore said to be "imprinted" onto the subject. Imprinting is hypothesized to have a critical period.

I see him there in the distance.

I can still recall the sound of his voice over the rumble of the shuttle,

As it pushes its way upward through the clouds and into the great beyond.

Like a giant messenger to the Gods.

Our eyes meet and it was as if he could see into my very soul.

A chance encounter in a world often cold, he is like a star falling to kiss my cheek.

His eyes linger long enough to let me know he is flirting.

Not able to handle the lingering, penetrating, deep brown eyes that twinkled in the midday sun, I turn away.

Moments later, I make a mad dash for my car.

I wanted to leave before we ran into each other, and I could not resist him.

The sound of my name echoes above the mad chaos of the end of day traffic.

I'm not even resisting the sounds that call out my name.

I can’t.

My heart races.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, his now very recognizable voice that carried a very distinct Caribbean accent, trembling, either from the slight running he just did.

Or the possibility that he was as nervous as I was.

“Yes,” I responded, “but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Your accent. I can’t quite decipher it,” he comments in a teasing nature.

My eyes are then stabbed by that sweet smile of his.

The sun, I am certain, got jealous at the brilliance.

I let my guard down and got stuck in what seemed like quick sand.

He was a breath of fresh air. Cliché, I know, but he was.

There was an instant attraction, and nothing after that could have possibly quenched the burning desire building except a meeting.

Was I afraid of moving forward?

Did I find myself suddenly knee deep in fear?

Or did I fall captive to the tenderness that I found in him?

What is it that attracts me to him?

What power did he have in what he did?

It seems that I have longed for him,

And now as the splendor of my vision materializes before me,

In that tempting twilight, I sip of his spirit.

My soul had now been marked with an imprint of him.