The Formula/The Kiss at Temple Square
He sat in front of me with his eyes locking onto mine whenever I paused for too long in between words. The sun seemed to be working hard to find our our eyes here and there, so we took turns wearing his granddad’s sunglasses while talking of decisions that twenty-somethings must make in life. What is the formula of life? Money is required, love is desired, time is taken and lost, happiness is necessary. But...What is the formula of life? I shook my head and tucked my chin to my chest, staring at the ground because I didn't have the answer. It never seemed to add up.
He leaned forward, and I couldn't help but peek up at his dark stormy eyes. We took turns studying each other with the chattering of water in the fountain filling the empty spaces. It was me with my sundress and bare shoulders. I closed my eyes for a second ready to ask myself if I believed he would still be there when I opened them...but it never came to that because I knew his scent. He smelled genuine, like a man who would go through great lengths to save others from pain. I opened my eyes to see his head slightly tilted, looking calm and sure. He said, “I’m the happiest now, and I’ve never been more broke.”
I broke into a smile. He did too. What is the formula of life?
And the fountain in front of us sprayed its water up into the sky in the center of Temple Square, and the trees made large bushy circles that played with the sun using different shades of green. And the concrete was warm on my legs, but cool in the shade. The wind was a reminder of the lonely winter, but everything else was in the seventy-five degrees of the here and now of spring. And the cars were sparse on the roads, and the photographers walking around the garden looked around with their eyeballs more than they took photographs. Couples old and new held hands, arms, and each other with their little screens that connected them to society tucked in their pockets or resting in their purses and satchels. The large prominent buildings of Salt Lake city ducked and curved around the sun, sharing the light with the smaller shops and restaurants. The homeless had shed their rags and bathed their rugged skin in the sun’s rays, tanning like anyone else might out on the grass. Dogs wagged their tails and followed their owners, leash or no leash. They took stairs two by two with their tongues hanging from their mouths, sweating a premature hot summer sweat. Mother's watched their children and children reached out for their mothers to play. Strangers read on benches and nodded to other strangers like old friends in on some old joke they were in on but had somehow forgotten its origin. Birds chirped, filling the sky like they were the only airplanes in the whole damn world, and tulips and honeysuckle made peace (or was it love?) in the garden patches surrounding the pathways throughout the Square's design.
His hand found my dress, found my leg, found my neck, found my chin, and finally found my lips that found his.
What is the formula of life? Maybe I’ll get to that one day, but right now, I just want to write about a kiss at Temple Square.