If I were talking about a person — a real, live one and not a screen-idol or a character in a book — I would never use “enamored” to describe the relationship. To me, enamored means “fascinated” or maybe “entranced” by something. Not necessarily someone, either.
I can easily be enamored by things, like a particular food, a camera, a lens, a fast car. Even by something I use in the kitchen and occasionally, by food preparation itself.
I can become enamored by a location. A river, a dam. The pond where the swans live or how the mist lays heavy on the beach as the sun rises. When I had a sports car (oh, too briefly!), I was totally smitten by its ability to accelerate from zero to whoopee in nanoseconds. It actually made my heart pound when it took off, almost in flight.
Of what am I currently enamored?
And I’m most particularly enamored by the light of the sun. We’ve had so little of it this year. We’ve had clouds and grey skies. Wind. Heavy rain. Bone chilly nights.
And waiting for life to come back. I hope I’m still young enough to enjoy it.