That moment on the grass

Meeting someone after months chatting is like seeing the movie of your favourite book for the first time. You have expectations about their voice, their smile, their sense of humour in a live conversation. I opened the door of my flat to him after a nap. I was nervous from past experience where there was no chemistry after a minute together with a friend of friends or couch surfer. I didn’t want to put too much at stake. But there he was, arrived in London from Frankfurt. A stranger from a casual chat during a winter with Covid. Confident and trusting, he left his baggage before we went to an open air concert together. He was nervous about the NHS testing proof, and so I was tense about his anxiety. I’m not big on prep, while he likes to have everything arranged and planned. 
We talked about family, work, music and love on the way to the festival. We both happen to be quite good listeners. He smiles through his eyes, genuinely. He is ambitious, but appreciates having a balance in life… and I struggle continue resisting getting involved.
I kissed him while my favourite song was playing. He got a shy smile. We were just lying on each other on the grass while hearing the notes of Max Richter. We were synced, two strangers that met on Instagram. We bumped into two of his friends, and somehow it already felt natural to stay together. They were celebrating their anniversary.
We ended up looking like two couples sitting on the grass.

We just said bye the next morning. He asked me to sleep in. 
I am not a morning person. He was going to a pre-arranged workout with friends. He suggested meeting again in London or Frankfurt, I said maybe, through my sleepy face. He said we should meet again for another festival, I said we can try - I don’t like to confirm things that might not happen.
We managed to meet again, not at the festival but the after party - I knew it, And something had changed. The synchronicity lost already. Just when you start putting yourself at stake. He said he wasn’t feeling well. And chatting the next morning continued to be awkward.
They say toughen up boy: don’t let yourself dream? 
But for that moment on the grass, I choose to still be a dreamer. Even if it was all a mirage.