Snapshots

                There was a night when we were hanging out at his place. He was cooking. I was sitting at the counter watching him. Music was playing on the stereo system. For the life of me I can’t remember now what the song was, as much as I try to. He was swaying to the music as he took the spoon to check the sauce. Instead of bringing it to his lips, he brought it to mine and said, “Try it.” I took a sip and took a moment to savor the taste. It was good but being my smart aleck self, I replied, “It’s good, just not good as mine.” He laughed and said, “Well next time we can switch places. You cook; I critique.” I laughed and stuck my tongue out at him. There was always something about him that brought out the little kid in me. He tried the sauce himself and said out loud, “It needs a little more salt.”

“You should know by now that I’m terrible at knowing if there’s enough salt in the food. Dad with high blood pressure and cholesterol problems, remember?” I said pointing at myself. He laughed and continued with his cooking. Suddenly, he lifted his head and stopped his cooking and looked right at me.

“What?” I asked him, confused by his actions.  

                Suddenly, he put the spoon down and came around the counter to my side. He pulled me by my hand and led me out to the middle of the room. I looked at him, bewildered by his randomness. I raised my eyebrow, silently questioning him. He just laughed. He took one of my hands in his, intertwining our fingers, and placing the other one on his shoulder. His other hand slid down to my waist, reaching the small of my back. We started swaying to the music, probably off beat but neither of us cared in that moment. I was caught up in the look in his eyes. I had seen it occasionally in the eyes of friends who had the misfortune to fall in love with me, but this time it was different. I knew if you took a photo of us in that moment you would see that look reflected in my own eyes. I was madly, deeply in love with this man.

The song ended. He resumed cooking and I went back to my place by the counter, watching him. Try as I may I couldn't get tired of watching him. Guess that's what love is.

It was random moments like this that made me fall harder for him. He was unpredictable, very random, and prone to doing little acts of love.

If I had to pick a song that fits that night perfectly, it would be "We don't have to take our clothes off" by Ella Eyre. Thank you Youtube.