I saw a girl, about 3, standing at the crosswalk yesterday. She was about to hop off the curb when her dad, about 6 feet 2, swept her up and sat her on one arm (the right). The look as she glanced back to give everyone (me included), was the proudest contortion I've ever seen a human face make; then she nuzzled her head onto his shoulder. Daddy's princess, ruler of crosswalks and owner of bouncy curls for a New York morning. I wanted a little girl for just that moment, because for the first time in a while, I thought about love.
Love is proud. I can see that love is also fearful and jealous and quick to anger. It's also selfish and selfless – temperamental and glowing and complicated and simple. It festers when alone but encompasses the universe when there's just one other thing - a place, a thing, a pet, a time, a person.