He placed the ring back in the small velvet box. Impolite laughter and sharp comments rang through the ballroom. She hadn’t even dignified his proposal with a ‘no’ or ‘let me think about it’. Instead, she ignored him completely. In hindsight, perhaps it was for the best. He raised his head and scampered out on his eight spindly legs, head still firmly attached to his carapace.
That moment when you know you’ve crossed over, transitioned from one being into someone, something you never imagined, when the scales fall from your eyes and you see for the first time your purpose in life, all from the spark of her eyes when she enters the room and the rest of the universe fades into dark matter.
When she entered the room he could see nothing else. The world may have continued on as before with its incessant breathing, feeding, talking, singing, and so forth, or it may have ended in a sudden catastrophe only to be miraculously recreated in a brilliant flash of light; it would have made no difference to him so completely did she captivate him and convert his world view.
He stood before the hated mirror. Why did it have to be so accurate? Always a tall and never a grande, competitor instead of a champion, a nice guy. He’d been called that more than once. A nice guy. Translated: non-threatening, uninteresting, a plain bagel without any schmear. No spice, no chance, and no thanks.
For just one moment of human connection, warmth, kindness, empathy, bridging the divide between self and the other to meet in that one place of agreement, deep kinship and understanding, concord of mind and time, where words are unnecessary, anachronistic and arbitrary, that one moment when it is easy to believe there is no time, there is only now and knowing and the infinite.