Hook, line, and sinker


I think back to the fall of 2011 and I try to pinpoint the exact moment I began to think of him as more than a friend. I realize that I cannot do that because it happened so quickly. I remember the first one-armed hug, the invitation to ride to lunch, the after-class coffee invitation, the friendly texts, the last night of class when he told me I was cute with my hair up or down, the first kiss, the electricity when he touched me, closing my eyes to find my happy place and seeing his face, wanting to be closer but trying to behave, my friends telling me we were both rebounding and it would never last, our first real dinner date and just listening to him talk, the first time he met my kids, the day he met my family, the day I met his girls for real, the chills I get when he tells me he loves me, the butterflies I get just thinking about him, wanting him, wanting to be what he needs; but not the exact moment I fell in love. You see, I realize now that I was falling a little bit with each one of these things. Every touch, every text, every look, every call, every kiss just made me fall more and more in love with this man. 

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