05 December 2012 nonfiction, "Light"

The light from the sun at about five o clock on a Sunday evening is the kind that can make magic. It makes one think about relaxed evenings and family and warm drinks, and as it highlights her hair I can’t help but smile and hope my eyes look as green as they feel. She’s so beautiful. As she claps her hands and runs just so I will chase her, I smile and wish I could feel that free. It’s hard to imagine a time when I wasn’t focused on other people’s opinions, and it’s funny because it’s not like anyone notices me anyway. But I notice her and I know that to her, tonight, I am the world, and somehow just that thought makes me feel okay. The grass seems softer somehow, and the orange glow is fading, but I still feel like smiling. I feel like tonight could last forever and it’s strange because for once I don’t need someone there to tell me that I’m fine and I’m still in reality because usually that’s what I need. But she’s like more than a drug to me, and I don’t understand how one person can have such an impact.

I’ve never understood the significance of one smile, but when I look at her and notice her baby teeth and her small hands and her gentle eyelashes I remember who I am and who I was, because one smile really did change me from what I was a long time ago to what I was a little while ago to what I am as of this moment. It’s funny because I don’t know what she’s smiling about and I don’t really see anything to smile about because who can smile in a world so cruel, but then again, she’s freer than I’ve ever been.