Nobody ever said the most beautiful smile I’d ever see would come from me. You may ask, as do I, how can that be?
It’s true. I can feel my smile warm the room, happiness leaping from the creases in my parted lips. There is laughter, too, and like a tingling in our jest, I can actually feel the air on my teeth – the freaking air on my teeth – because my smile has never been so damn beautiful.
My smile, you see, is a mirror reflecting what’s in front of me. Our son growing between breaths; our laughter overlapping, our family just weeks away from they used to be three. And it is strange to find my own smile so beautiful, I know. But I’m okay with that, but only because you are next to me, the most damn beautiful smile on your lips, reflecting my smile back at me.
Categories: Creative Writing