Figaro

I once had a school teacher comment that she would rather have an interesting day than a perfect day because you rarely learn anything in a perfect day. Perhaps this is true. Perfect moments rarely teach us anything, they don't make for good stories, and they don't often make for juicy blog posts. They do make for beautiful memories though, and my date with Gabe last night to see "The Marriage of Figaro," is certainly one I want to remember.

I want to remember:
Gabe's warm hand upon the small of my back as he leads me gently to the car,
The lacy black "Jane Austen" dress that I can only wear on date nights without Persy,
Devouring a creamy risotto and tender salmon at a fancy restaurant before the show,
The joyful anticipation I feel whenever the lights go dim in a theater and the overture begins,
Whispered conversations in the dark,
The funny guy sitting next to us in top hat and monocle glasses that looked like Mr. Peanut,
Holding hands throughout the performance and tapping our fingers to the music,
Strolling outside and kissing gently during intermission,
Laughing with the crowd when Figaro sings, "(It's Susanna.)"
The way I still feel a secret thrill when I don't have to say "good-bye" at the end of a date.