It could mean different things for different people. Take the holidays for example. While some of us are soaking in the last few nights of Chanukah, others are going batshit insane at Macy’s with a scroll as long as a CVS receipt in their hands. Christmas is right around the corner. I suppose for the Jews, Chanukah is magical as it symbolizes the rededication of the second temple in Jerusalem. For those who celebrate Christmas, it’s either magical because our flesh is gratified with more THINGS…or because Christmas commemorates the birth of a savior…no wait, a baby…or is it a prophet? Teacher? Anywho.
It could mean different things for different people. Hell, for some, a magical night was prom. Bonus points if they lost their virginity. For the delusional, their wedding day was perhaps a fairytale capped with a magical night.
As for her, it was almost exactly a year ago to the day. I don’t know if she’d be so child-like as to render it “magical” (probably “life changing” would be more fitting), but in either case, there WAS magic. She even remembers the songs that served as background music during their heart talks that lasted for hours. What could have been just a magical night, nothing more, standing still, on it’s own, blossomed into the two of them making magic together. In fact many times she told him, “thank you for making magic with me”.
A magical night. It could mean different things for different people. For her, that night, that cold, winter night, it meant becoming acquainted with his heart. All their nights were more magical than the last. One particular evening, she was straddled on top of him, letting her tears fall on his chest as she poured every vow she had stored up for him. How she misses those magical nights, watering the soil of his soul.