Memories of the Future

His eyes. I've seen them before, but where? Yes they are simply golden brown, barely noticeable in the dark club we are both in, but I swear they are eyes mine have locked with. My stomach fills with jitters as he approaches, and his plain yet dazzling eyes look me up and down. He tilts his head with me, both of us now lost in a trance of confusion, both having the same feeling. I grab my head; the feeling is almost overwhelming and my own eyes flutter so his features get caught in my daze. His smile. His smile. I would have remembered that smile anywhere. As the corners of his mouth raise, I bite my lip as a result of a sensation I was unaware of. Staring at him, I feel my body fall down, almost fainting with the heat of the club and our concerningly strong connection. He suddenly grabs my body, saving me from the cold floor and I see it all: every memory we shared before this one, every feeling greater than this one. I see us, in this club, only it was a ballroom and we were sharing our first dance as husband and wife, those same eyes following my steps as I lead. I see us, shopping for our first child's baby clothes, us raising a family and growing old together. The memories stop and we share a look, one I must have been familar with. He saw them too. So he grabs me by the hand and we share another dance, hoping to have a future together like we once did years ago.