Saturday, March 8, 2014

Valentine's Day, postponed

He takes a box out of his pocket and sets it on the table. A small box. A box for jewelry. I love jewelry, I love gifts, I love small surprises men carry home for you. I love looking in his face as he looks at me bouncing in my chair because there is a jewelry box in front of me. That perfect face only clouds over for a moment, when he considers my glee might arise from a belief that the box contains something rather more Significant than a mere piece of jewelry. It doesn't. This is just my "I have a jewelry box from the most handsome man in town" face. I love this moment so much I almost don't want to open the box, because then the box ceases to be important and becomes extraneous. But of course I do open it, because a jewelry box is irresistible. And inside is a bubbly lustrous pair of "I love yous" to frame my face. He thought they looked like me. He was right.
Thank you, Michael, for the smorgasbord of delight.

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