One day when we’re sitting in a café, you’ll ask me when it was that I first realized I was in love with you, and I would smile and recall all the moments we shared in our journey thus far, thinking about an answer. No, it wouldn’t be the day I first saw you, it wouldn’t be that smile we shared which no one else noticed, it wouldn’t be that time you touched the small of my back and sent shivers through my spine.
I think the time I realized I was in love with you was when you told me about Paris, about seeing the Eiffel tower for the first time, about going back to marvel at it again and again even if it meant getting left behind. It was the way you told me the story, it made me feel like we both were suddenly transported to Paris, and I was with you, and it was lovely. I remember how your eyes sparkled with the memory, like Paris was magic, and then you smiled at me, like I was, too.
Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic ~ Frida Kahlo