Eclipse

"How do you know if you like someone?"

The question hung in the seven-hundred mile space between us. Even though it was almost three in the morning, I turned the question over and over in my mind. The first couple of answers were almost trite in their basicality. Things like, 'I want to protect them and keep them happy' and 'I know I like someone because I feel good when I'm around them and when I'm done spending time with them, I look forward to the next time'. I also explained that I often get tongue-tied and make a fool of myself.

It wasn't until the next day that the thought came into focus. Listening to a soft, almost sinister, cover of Sweet Dreams, Jan's question came back to me and so did an answer for it. I know that I like someone because they start popping up in my mind on their own. Slowly like budding flowers opening to the sun, the thought of them takes up more and more mind space until the world that I perceive to be theirs and mine eclipse into a merged garden of color.

That's how I know.