You meet somewhere ordinary, like at work or at your friend’s birthday pregame or in a class at your university. The day is ordinary. It’s raining or freezing or sunny or a little bit humid.

Maybe you talk about the rain or the humidity for a little bit. You have an ordinary conversation because you’re trying to test out the spark between you and its ability to survive amidst the most boring conversation topic that exists.

You talk a little bit more, and you realize absurdly quickly that you like this person. They’re funny or warm or intriguing. The conversation was effortless, and it was only cut off because someone else had to step in. You give each other wary smiles, like you’re not sure what’s going to happen next.

You feel like an idiot, because you’re more giddy than you want to admit about the mere fact that you met someone who has finally made you feel excited again. You just met them, but you already can’t stop wondering if something will happen.

Something does happen, one way or another. You eventually exchange numbers, which is like a tangible promise that this thing is a possibility.

You go out on a date, and it’s perfect. It’s not a five-course dinner on a penthouse balcony or a private dance in front of an orchestra. There’s nothing involving masquerade balls or five thousand dollar gowns. It’s just you and a person who makes you smile, wearing jeans and walking around, ordering takeout or going to a casual dinner and drinking a couple beers together.

You’re surprised at how quickly someone can show up in your life like this. There’s nothing wrong with you, but it just felt like everybody else was coupling off except for you. You were sure that it either wasn’t going to happen for you or that you were going to end up with someone merely because everybody else was already taken.

But then this person showed up and all of the sudden you were smiling when you were grocery shopping or taking out the trash.

You don’t feel the need to hook up immediately. The chemistry is there, but this person is different. You want to learn more than their name and their sometimes-hobbies, instead of just immediately moving on to the next step like you’re mindlessly following some kind of dating flowchart.

You do get to know them. You understand what they were like in middle school and you learn that there are random things that make them laugh that aren’t funny. You start loving their voice and when they wear their favorite sweatshirt. You wonder when you’re going to actually fall in love.

And then it happens. On some regular, uneventful day, you realize they’re your person. There’s no courageous act or ridiculous announcement or some kind of romantic proclamation on the top of the Eiffel Tower. You’re just looking at them, while you’re laying in bed or sitting in a Waffle House or marathoning House of Cards. You get goosebumps and you know they feel it too and you’re out of breath and kind of nauseous.

And then one of you blurts it out. “I love you.” Sometimes it comes out as a question, sometimes it’s barely audible because they swallowed their own spit out of panic. It’s never smooth or sexy. It’s usually the opposite and someone usually immediately laughs, sometimes both of you.

But it’s regular and unaffected and simple and genuine and based on nothing else other then your legitimate, steady, honest feelings. It’s ordinary love and it happened to you. It’s your modern day fairytale.