"There’s a guy I know. Peripherally. And only a little. But I know him well enough to know that I like to sneak glances of him when I can. And occasionally, when I’m lucky, he does the same. I said something to him not loo long ago. It was a silly something—nothing really. It was boring and not to the point and he looked up at me and grinned—this sort of wide, loose smile. And it struck me that his response was so disproportionate to what I had said, but so perfectly apt for what was happening in that meaty and wordless territory where two people meet. An altogether different sort of silence. A good one. I did that, I thought as he walked away. That smile—I did that. Not because of what I said or what I did but because of who I am. Twenty-eight years and I’d never consciously had that thought before. I can’t help thinking that that’s the sort of smile a girl should walk down the stairs to. A little bit giddy and little bit unrestrained and so totally guileless.
And to accept anything less would be to miss the point."http://www.megfee.com/2014/01/21/paris-explained/#.UuXz8P0QHUQ
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