Ever since I've known him, Eric's had this way of knowing exactly what to do on days like this. He knows how to make me feel special, and he understands celebrating in the way he gets brushing his teeth. Wait, I mean, in the way he gets how to mix spices when cooking.
Anyways, I am again humbled and bashful, a school girl with a crush on the popular kid who could have any girl he wanted.
So, even though my birthday is supposed to be about me, I find myself struck with how it feels like a reminder of our love. A reminder of how many years have gone by since our first date. Of how with one song on a music list he created for me, I can be moved to tears and my stomach can stir. How the whirring of the past, present, and future can start buzzing inside all over again. And again. Year after year. A collection of a million snapshots and counting. A million instant photos in my mind's eye.
Eric asked me once if I had a favorite moment of ours. I was speechless and smiled in amazement, as my heels kicked over my head, at how picking one would be most certainly impossible.
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