How Can I Not?
I was teaching about appearance and how to describe it and I asked each of my students to tell me what physical feature they noticed when they first met their respective spouses.
Laughter and coy giggles followed. Some opted for hair and smile, one cheerfully claimed, "His pouty lips!"; another grinned and said, "Her button nose."
Then I turned to this middle aged woman I've talked about here a while back. She was a hard working cashier in our supermarket, serious most of the time and always gave a thoughtful answer.
"So Mrs N, what was it about your husband that you noticed the first time you met him?"
She smiled this very big, shiny smile I bl
She simply said, "His skin," but in it memories flooded, affection showed unabashedly. How can you not believe in love? When it survives long years of hardships, hard work, arguments and fights? When it turns a middle age, tired woman into a smiling, pretty girl?