She loved him for his wholeness. She loved the support he gave. She loved that she could lean on him whenever she tired. She loved the way his presence seemed to have no beginning and no end. She loved that he was vulnerable: even a small fall could break him to pieces. She loved that despite his fragility, he could carry a burden for longer than most. She loved that she could be the one to ease that burden.
He loved her for the way she seemed to gleam in the light. He loved her soft curves that accentuated her slim figure. He loved her importance: without her, everyone else could only helplessly watch as life-giving force slipped through their fingers. He loved that she helped them to grasp. He loved how she gently cradled and showed him the beauty of it, the substance which he could never hold without it losing its shape.
…and that’s why the dish ran away with the spoon.