Drowned in moonlight, strangled by her own bra, buried in a Prozac capsule. Brava, Carrie. Brava.
You look at her and she's already looking at you; she smiles and you smile like a silent echo, a ripple in a still pond.
When you meet the one who changes the way your heart beats, dance with them to that rhythm for as long as the song lasts.
Be you. People will either adjust or leave. Those who stay witness something special. They're the ones who deserve your magic.
If she's talking to you throughout the day, she's into you. If she isn't, she's into someone else. Good talk.