How I do know I love you?


“Perhaps”, she confidently began, and being the type of person who is comfortable in her own skin, was happy I asked, “it is the way I beautifully and simply wear my hair.”

And then she boastfully chuckled. Her laughter trailed off, “is it my smile that sets your soul on fire?”

Oh, I think I know, it’s my carefree attitude and loads of confidence!”

What had started off with a seemingly simple question turned into a soliloquy, I think to myself, entertained and smitten by it all.

The steady walk suddenly turned into one blissful event; something of an enchanting by-chance musical as both our footsteps started clicking to make well-orchestrated sounds that cheerfully met our voices.

It could have just been my ears, or, the mind playing tricks on me.

Oh, nonetheless, what a moment it became!

The laughter became much more pleasant. Musical, even.

Time seemed to move slower, way slow, so as to allow us to have more of what had soon become a telling moment since we met.

Children playing about the street as we slowly passed became something to be documented. Every little thing in the world added a phenomenal dimension.

The world, our part of the world, the street we so often walked when we spent time, changed dramatically in a matter of minutes. No, in a matter of moments after I put a question to her.

“Or just maybe, no! I know this to be true, among other things of course. But chiefly, my presence and I suppose, the scent of my skin brightens your day!”

I notice a lot of things when I am with you. Though you haven’t exactly said much about the way you feel about me, some micro-moments have long given you away.”

This moment! If one had a drone quietly hovering over as we strolled, filming the whole thing. The conversation, the glances we threw at each other.

Oh, silly wishes. Anyway.

“To be fair, I felt conflicted, too. Felt childish for feeling this way. And so I thought to myself, we will see as time goes.”

We were past the street at which we usually stop and return home. It felt okay. And so we deftly marched on. We could stroll and drown in each other’s voices for a lot more hours if it came to that.

“I never trust easily you know, and while thinking about it, I realised this, us that is, was much more than what met the eye. We’ve just been prolonging it. Wasting time? I don’t know.”

A seemingly innocuous quiz had resulted in this. We must have talked, if you add up the time, for more than ten thousand hours before. This question added to them.

Perhaps I exaggerate.

But long conversations have brought us closer, to be frank. They are one of the best things we get up to when we are together.

The sun dipped; it grew dark, children went indoors and those returning from work filled the streets as they hurried home after a hard day, toiling away. While attentively listening, her soliloquy drew to a close, her voice signaled it.

Beautifully strange. But just how did the evening decide to be cool, instead of piercing through one’s skin as it has for the past three weeks?

It’s neither here nor there, I suppose.

My stomach does funny things when I am with her. I’ve managed to hide that very well, though. I think.

More simply, her company is enough, wherever we may be, immaterial of what we talk about.

With all the above mentioned factored in and discussed, ‘Is that how I know?’, I asked her.

“I guess,” she responded, looking firmly at me, “how you know, how we both know, and if we are honest, is that it’s something that has always been in the air. It’s that simple.”