I’ve fallen

I freely admit that there’s a vanity (if you’d call it that) that I entertain and even take a little pleasure in. It’s those unexpected times when your eyes meet those of someone else and the glimmer in those eyes tells you that you are beautiful. It is not an everyday look that boosts confidence or drive. It doesn’t accompany volleys of flirtation. It is more likely to happen on what you might consider a bad hair day. You may be in grubby clothes, perhaps executing some quite unglamorous (however necessary) chore.

He takes your attention, and there in his eyes is that sparkle that warms your stomach and weakens your knees just a little. For that moment you have the perfect self-esteem. In the back of your mind you’re fully aware that there are many others who are more beautiful, more intelligent, more graceful, more exotic, and more elegant than you. You’re also aware that any other man in the room could look at you, and there would not be the same glimmer in his eye. Mostly, you’re aware that the glimmer that this man has for you allows you the grace to ignore those other things.

Later, you go home, you get ready for bed, and as you are finishing your nightly routine in the bathroom, you notice your own face in a different way and you–for a split second–see yourself the way he did. This, perhaps, causes you to gaze at your reflection a little longer than necessary, and though you might chastise yourself just a little for being vain, you’d gladly plead guilty to that sin than to give up the moment.

As you turn out the bathroom light and head off to bed, the thought occurs to you that maybe you misread the look in his eye. Perhaps it was a look of amusement, as he suppressed a laugh upon noticing the spinach stuck in your teeth. A knot of disappointment tightens in your stomach.

“Ah! But I did not eat spinach today!” you retort triumphantly; and the moment, the warmth–the lingering weak knees–are not taken from you.

And that, simply put, is how He makes me feel. I am in love with him, and relish the knowledge that despite every reason he shouldn’t be in love with me, he is. He is sitting in his palace, next to his father, excitedly waiting for the moment when he can come take me away.

He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

That’s the whole thing right there.

He loves you too.

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