i feel like i notice things in him that are so particular, the way i notice things in everyone, except these are the things i could spend the rest of my life smiling at, or realizing the deep humanity and gravity of. a look, a gesture, a comment on something he has noticed and loved. many of these things are preconceived, for he is so self-conscious, and while some of those actions are endearing anyway because the intent behind them is usually so obvious, so readable, it is the candid moment that explodes my heart. my heart does not beat faster because of the unexpected, rather it rages for the excitement of understanding-- candidness is always a reveal, and when you see something real all of a sudden it's like you just found enough change to buy a candybar or found the missing piece to make the gadget work. the big picture gets bigger and bigger and you are more in awe because you are starting to understand what it is to understand, and what it is to understand a human person. a soul.
she, i can tell, sees these things too, and she sees these things in him like i do. this makes me glad, because sometimes i cry with worry about the idea of dying and the world losing track of me-- not me, i don't think i'm all that important, but what i love in people. that love will be invisible when i'm dead, and my loves will eventually be dead, too, and all of those quirks, passions, habits, all of that immensity will be gone. not only will i and those i love wither, the way we care for oneanother will also pass on. this is another reason why people get married; that is one small way for this bond between people/this declaration of love to outlast time.
i am also sad that she sees these things in him. it means i am dispensable. i can no longer say no one will love you the way that i could have.