The Difference

I found a picture that you took of me on Valentine’s Day, long after dinner and margaritas and a cosmopolitan that I had wanted to drink because it was pink and the champagne truffles that we ate in bed.  In the picture my back is turned and I’m smiling at you over my bare shoulder.  The back of my dress hangs slightly open at the top.  It’s my little black dress that I wear for all those big hopeful days.  It wasn’t until I found that picture that I realized that I have a different smile for you than I do for anyone else.  You asked me how I could be so certain that I wanted to be with you.  I told you that I wasn’t always, but one day I noticed the difference between you and me and all the other possibilities.