Friday, I went out dancing.
Just before I left, much_ado
smiled one of her incandescent "life is good" smiles. A bunch of questions that had been wandering around in my head resolved in a gestalt. That, and her smile, brought about a smile on my own face, and me telling her (from my lofty position of 2' above her), "I love you."
She told me I looked like someone we both knew when I said things like that, and I cannot remember if it was said or just "heard" that she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, so I leaned down and told her (in her ear - Abstract is loud) that it is important to me that I tell the people I love that I do. "That's all."
She said something (and here's where my brain gets a bit fuzzy, cause it was late for me and all), but it was something on the order of "At least this time the grin isn't so wolfish."
I started thinking.
I know I can and do have a very wolfish grin, usually reserved for when I think I can huckster my way through something or when someone's handed me a challenge I think I can ace.
I don't think either of those was the case.
I didn't know I used that grin when things suddenly make sense. (Anyone else seen me do this? I tend not to see my own face much.)
I still love her. Suspect that's not changing any time soon - more and more, she's an incredibly special human being to me and by my definitions of love, I do love her.
It's also really fun for me to watch her be happy. I guess that's at least a goodly part of what's kept me near her (from my end) this long. She glows when she's happy. It's a good thing to see.
But I'm doing more thinking about my smiles today. and what they tell the people around me - especially those close to me. If it's important that my words match my actions, it would be nice if my facial expressions matched my emotions (unless, of course, and always reserving the right to, the walls are deliberately up to hide them).