"How does it feel?” he asked.
She shook her head and held a long blink.
“It’s...” she paused, attempting to pin a few thoughts down.
“It feels like gold dust, like magic, like everything that’s ever been significantly great, ever felt the warm arms of the sun, has been poured out in one sentence that’s entirely mine, entirely devoted to me."
She struggled to give it words, give it definition.
“I’m not in His peripherals, in the rear view mirror, over His shoulder or off in the distance, you know?”
"I’m His bullseye, the apple of His eye,” she looked away.
"I am His most precious and beloved pearl.”
He jotted a few notes, the air sitting for a few long seconds.
"I don't know how else to say it, to explain it, but that’s the closest I can get all my words to go right now,” she said.