I’m rational enough to realize that romance isn’t necessarily the stuff I’ve been reading and seeing in movies all my life. I think that if someone [he would have to be crazy and half-blind] ever proposed to me, I wouldn’t be thinking about how handsome he is. I would be thinking of my mother and how much she gave to be who she is, to make me what I am- her early mornings and meals and sacrifices for daddy. I would think of how much this question means… children, housework, dirty socks… kisses, Christmas mornings, stubble on his cheeks… and I would wonder, is he the one I need/am I the one he needs? Can we do the life thing together for the rest of the days in our allotted sum? Only after all these things had fled through my mind and I had answered yes- only after I had evaluated the million joys and frustrations and said yes to them would I say yes to the man in the moonlight.