And after family but before gynecologists, the conversation turned to boys. I guess it was bound to happen to two women during the course of afternoon spent getting to know one another. But while she talked about how frustrating and peculiar they could be, I found myself unrecognizably quiet and felt sly smiles creeping onto my lips. And suddenly I had to say what was on my mind:

"But don't you just think they are so amazingly interesting? The things they dream and the way they protect and their infinite creativity that lavishes us with gleeful surprises and thoughtful gestures?"

And until then, I don't think I realized what a magical tonic love is. How it colors our world rosey like a pair of pink sunglasses. And gives us the freedom to appreciate everything as the most perfect gift, just for us.

Long past midnight, I left my candlelit apartment and walked in my long ivory nightgown under the ivy-covered trellis to the back gate to make sure that it was locked. When I turned, I saw my shadow, tall, thin, and dramatic, cast along the butter brick wall of the house next door. The music seeped. The candlelight flickered. And I stood staring, as if in a trance.

It isn't often that we truly experience dreams while wide awake. They make for painfully beautiful moments.