As I hold her close she looks intently into mine, one at a time, and then jabs me in the eye with her little finger and says, “eyes”. She does this often. Her eyes have changed since she was born. What were once grey-green-blue-brown are now, 20 months later, golden brown with hints of green. Will they continue to change as she does?
When I cry my hazel eyes become much more green. I cried a lot yesterday. So much that my eyelids were perpetually swollen and my head ached—probably from the loss of water.
I remember when I first really looked deeply into his eyes. It was right before our first kiss. We had gone for a walk as the sun was setting. Down a dirt road during the magic hour we crested a little hill and could see the fields, forests, and hills aglow. The sky was bright pink, orange, yellow and was made more intense by the way I was feeling inside—those same colors were glowing in the depths of me.
We stopped on that dirt road to watch the Earth turn. After a long gaze at the setting sun, we turned and looked at one another other. We drew closer together like magnets as time turned to honey. I saw the sunset reflected in his deep brown eyes.
In that slow motion and in the realization that we were about to kiss pictures, feelings, knowings flashed rapidly before my eyes. In those quick flashes I saw and felt great happiness and great pain. I somehow knew that the kiss we were about to share would be the beginning of a great adventure—ripe with laughter, silliness, sweetness, and deep, deep love.
But, with that would also come deep pain, hurt, sadness, and difficulty as well. In the split second of this recognition I knew I had a choice. I could lean forward and start down this path together, or I could pull back and never have those experiences.
I leaned forward and met him in the middle. The fireworks burst open in my mind.
With that kiss we solidified the start of our journey down a winding, bumpy, lovely road—which time has proven to be exactly as I saw it would be.
