I think a lot about other people's lives, and how they got to be where they are, what made them who they are, those little moments that seem, somehow, pivotal. I will now, off and on, spend some time relating some of my favorites of other people's stories.
My friend J. related a story to me as to how she met her husband. She was at a party in college, and she was talking with someone about favorite words,
"I love the word 'come'. I love how 'come' feels in my mouth." (It may or may not be significant to note here that J. was studying to be a speech therapist.)
Right as she said that second bit, there had been one of those sort of pauses in conversation when the room is quiet, all but one voice, her own, right as she said,
"I love how 'come' feels in my mouth." I imagine her pronouncing "come" very carefully, as though to accent the quotation marks in her speech.
J. suddenly found herself to be very popular with the opposite sex. I imagine that the man who was later to become her husband was only sticking around to protect her from the scumbags, right? At least, to look at him without blushing too much, that is how I imagine it.