Simple Snare

I used to think I was über-cool.
Yes, yes, it's true.
I still do. Mostly.

Self-delusion.
My favorite midnight snack?

But a girl has to believe in something.
Might as well be herself.

I take great pleasure and pride in my ability to raise one eyebrow independent of the other. My left eyebrow. My quirkable left eyebrow exudes cool, indeed it does. It puts me in a different class, a class above those persons less eyebrow-rific. You know who you are.

On my first face-to-face date with Wendy, there was plenty of conversation. Comfortable conversation. Getting-to-know-you conversation. First date conversation.

Something she said caused me to raise my eyebrow.
Yes yes, that quirkable left eyebrow in which I take such pride.
I flexed that puppy for all it was worth.

And that's when it happened.

Wendy mirrored my raised eyebrow with her own, then, in response to what was most likely a stunned amazed dumbfounded outraged appreciative confused incredulous look on my face, proceeded to waggle both eyebrows at me. One up. The other down. Rapidly reverse and repeat.

And that, my friends, is all it took.
It was like a switch flipped in the cosmos.
As simple as that.
My heart was hers.

I told her later. Much later.
But she still doesn't believe it.
Not about my heart being hers, but about when I knew.
I'm telling it true, though.

My girl, she's a class above.

.