This is How You Say ‘I Love You’ (Part 1)
March 9, 2011
Almost always, you get noticeably crossed when I try getting you to declare that you love me.
You either keep up in stony silence or growl a little at me.
After all, you’ve done your duty. You’ve explained, more than once, that words are cheap, and saying ‘I love you’s cheapen the meaning of those blistering words.
I get petulant. Put on a pout. Remind you that you once said you’ll tell me every day that you love me. I took every day to mean every 24 hours cycle (give or take a couple of sleeping hours).
You shrug off my reminder. That was then. Then, of course, referring to when we were dating. In the here and now, I better be able to see for myself that you love me in all that you do for me.
My sulk mirrors yours and the laundry list of disenchantment stretches itself a little more. I hang back a little. I’ll pester you with the same request, maybe differently phrased, another time. I will.
~ ~ ~
I pester you with the same query again.
This time, you are driving down the road in the rain. It’s another spent weekend. There’s traffic light turning from amber to red. You come to a stop and still the rain pelts down.
“Do you love me?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you do.”
“That’s right.”
It’s a signal. The light goes green and we go on our way together.
