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I believe in Magic |
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Posted 5/31/2011 at 10:23 AM by Heather F |
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I believe in magic…
… and I’m not talking the Abra-Kadabra bulls**t, where a man on stage wearing makeup reaches into his hat and pulls out a rabbit. No, I mean the real thing.
Magic… like when your eyes meet across a crowded bar, club, party, coffee shop, office building- whatever the scene. Innocent but there’s that static electric. Then, a first kiss… nervous-unrehearsed and sometimes sloppy with fault but there’s a taste of promise.
Magic… the excitement. Mystery of butterflies in your core because you are well on your way to opening the cover to a would-be stranger’s book. It is not just first glance anymore. There is a new passion building as you begin to read and discover. The two of you become a quote rather a paraphrase and from dating stems a friendship, then it blooms to a relationship cruising along the honey moon stage.
Magic… in moving boxes, packaging tape, bubble wrap, sweat and a house warming gift. You prance into a down payment on much more than an apartment but an investment into the present. There are cheers with a clink of crystal rims, the warmth of wine’s kiss followed by looking at each other and the comfort of your life. This moment… This place… Just this.
The Magic of a single, small black box held in shaking palms. It starts with one of us on one knee, that familiar nervous of so long ago floating up to the surface. Ending with tears of happiness and one syllable encompassing so much… “Yes.”
Magic… in an engagement. My mind twisted and in knots of “what ifs” while my stomach is doing flips trying to harness those pesky butterflies, all the while my father’s arm is laced with mine as he guides me down the aisle. The aisle is only feet but it feels more like a mile because with you as my destination I can’t get there fast enough. With, “I do.” All the insects in my pit melt away and with them, any and all doubt.
Magic… with my side of the bed. Waking up in warm sheets, your arms around me and intertwined legs. The scent of the curve of your neck, different than how you smell when you are awake during the day. Getting up to cook us breakfast and looking forward to laying back down with my expected goodnights and bedtime kisses.
The magic of time spent plus nine months and there’s a call in the middle of the day. Hours later… no drugs… it is watching tiny fingers, all five of them wrap around my thumb, eyes not quite yet open but she has your smile. She’s our miracle. We are no longer just an ‘us’ but a family. She’s so innocent and before we know it she is walking, talking, and making friends. There are sleepovers and elementary school, buss stops and fieldtrips. There’s soccer practice and more birthdays, sweet sixteen, driving… boys… but always ending in goodnights and bedtime kisses.
You see, I do believe in magic.
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