When you first meet someone, a friend, a lover, an unknown, they have one smile.
The longer you know them, you realize that they have one genuine smile, and other smiles in varying degrees of emotion.
The 'I'm unhappy but hiding it' smile.
The uncertain smile.
The 'I have a secret that you're going to just love' smile.
Loving is about knowing. About translating the expressions until that person has no expression that you can't crack.
You translate them.
Translating is turning the mystery into the tangible. You love them enough that you can read every sigh, every turn of the eyebrow, every look, and you speak their inner language so fluently that nothing is lost on you.
Love. Beauty. Understanding.
It's all there. When it's right, nothing is lost in translation.