Why I Love Her

January 30, 2015 § Leave a comment

It’s always been about her eyes.

The moment I met her I knew there was something different about her. I’d like to think that what I was sensing was some deep spiritual pull toward the woman that was meant to be the love of my life. But perhaps that’s just my heart trying to rationalize what my mind didn’t want to admit. Perhaps that pull that I felt was just the pull of those eyes. Baby blue and staring back at me. No, piercing into my very substance. I knew those eyes told a story that I had to hear. Something about those eyes made me feel like I had to open the book of this girl’s soul and read it cover to cover. I was lost. I was trapped. When I looked into those beautiful eyes and they looked back at me, I knew I had no chance. Something came over me and my mind filled with a passion that I couldn’t control.

We met at a dog park. I believe we had met in passing once previously. But we had our first real conversation at a dog park. I had just finished walking my dog and I was about to head home when, in what can only be described as perhaps the most life changing accident of my life, my dog started dragging me toward this girl. And I don’t mean she dragged me straight ahead, as if this girl was in my direct path. No, my dog starting pulling me in the complete opposite direction toward some girl 100 yards away on the opposite side of a fence. I sighed. I swore under my breath at my dog. For a split second I considered turning back around and dragging my dog’s big ass back to my apartment.

I don’t know why, but I didn’t. I let my dog drag me toward this girl. As I approached we exchanged words. She mentioned that she was from Queens. I mentioned that I’d stayed in Queens a couple summers back. She gives me an odd look. To this day I don’t know why. We stand in front of the gate to the dog park and exchange words for maybe five minutes. Unexpectedly, she asks if I wanted to go into the dog park together and talk.

The rest is history.

It wasn’t that we stayed in that dog park talking for hours. It wasn’t that we had so much to talk about that we rambled until it was dark outside and I was late for my night shift. No, it wasn’t any of that. Sure, we had chemistry. Chemistry is nice. Chemistry is important. But chemistry is fleeting and fragile. We had something else. Something that I can’t describe.

I think it was those damn eyes. I remember looking off into the distance during a brief lull in our conversation. I could feel her eyes on me. Reading me. Looking for something. In my peripheral I could see her smiling at me. I don’t know if she felt the same thing I did. But she felt something. I know it.

Nine months later we’re living together and madly in love. Things haven’t changed. She still gets me with those eyes. But it’s more than that. Much more. What exactly? It’s hard to pin down precisely. But if I had to try…

Maybe it’s the way she lays her head on my chest as she falls asleep every night. Maybe it’s the way she always thinks of me and does little things for me, even if she’s busy with work. Maybe it’s the feeling I get when I hold her in my arms. Maybe it’s the way her dress blows freely in the wind as we goof around at the Sunday flea market. Maybe it’s the way she looks deeply into my eyes at every stop light we hit and doesn’t say a word. Maybe it’s the fact that we can be ourselves around each other – and yes, we are weirdoes. Maybe it’s the way we can spend every waking minute of our free time together and still never get sick of one another. Maybe it’s the way she laughs hysterically at me when I’m just being myself. Maybe it’s that we feel comfortable going into public together and just being ourselves and letting our freak flags fly. Maybe it’s the honesty in her voice when she tells me she wants everything with me. When she tells me she wants to marry me. When she tells me she wants to have a family with me. When she tells me about the deepest and darkest depths of her soul without fear of being judged. Maybe it’s the sincerity in her voice when she tells me I’m the best she’s ever had. Maybe it’s the look in her eyes when we make love and she tells me she’s never felt this way about anyone before.

Maybe it’s love.

No, no. It’s those eyes. It’s always those damned beautiful eyes.

And love. Deep, unconditional, love.

And it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

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