Thoughts of love, pieces of a love story

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It’s raining outside. Inside, thoughts of love float in the air, following me around. I let them. They whisper snippets of love stories to me. They are always welcome here. Later, I’ll sit with them. For now it’s time to walk the dogs. In the rain, through puddles in big ‘ole rainboots and smell the earth and see the muted colours and feel the damp and hear the sloshy sounds of cars and trucks rushing by and get cold enough to enjoy going back home and warming up with a cup of something hot.

It’s a weekday. You left for work hours ago, after the alarm, after espresso, after we sat reading side-by-side on the couch, the fingers of my left hand fitting into the spaces between the fingers of your right hand, before you had to shower, dress, gather up your stuff, share a brief kiss and go out into your day.

As you headed for the door, I headed upstairs. You stopped and the last thing you said to me was, “Did we kiss goodbye yet?”

I was nearly at the top step, and stopped to turn around to see you standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me. You looked as if I had neglected something important. You looked serious.

Odd that you would forget our brief kiss just moments ago, but I answered you anyway.

“You don’t remember? A minute ago, under the archway in front of the bird-cage as you were about to put your coat on? Remember?”

You looked dubious so I came back downstairs, rested my elbows on your shoulders, touched your nose lightly with mine just before we shared a kiss, a breath, a bubble of time. And then I smiled. Duped again. You smiled.

“Gotcha,” you said as you made a mark in the air. “That’s 10 for me and zip, zero, niente, rien, nada, nul for you.”

I sniffed. “That’s because I am gullible in all languages. I can’t do what you do. I can’t keep a straight face with people I know…”

I frowned at you and came to the rescue of my gullible self. “You know, I am soon going to get to the point where I don’t believe anything you say.”

You just laughed, enjoying this game.

“I doubt that. I’ve figured it out. All I have to say to you is this: ‘did you know researchers found’ … and I will have your undivided attention not to mention your faith.”

My reaction was minimalist: a raised eyebrow and a smile. But it was clear that you have thought about my patterns of behaviour, my reactions; you have thought about me. Or at least, you have spent time putting together in your mind things about me to make such a predictive statement which, unfortunately for me, happens to be a true statement. I needed a strategy.

Nothing like a good offence.

“Isn’t it time for you to leave? And just for the record, I am now, as of this moment,  officially, not ever going to believe a word you say about anything, ever again.”

You smiled that smile, the smile that pulled me in, that captured my attention the moment I saw it. You stepped close and whispered, “I love you.”

I grr’d at you half-heartedly. “So you say. Go. You’ll be late.”

“Okay, okay. Call me later?”


You smiled. Dark eyes sparkling. The freckles on your nose moved. You turned and headed out. I closed the door behind you.

Floating in the air, waiting, were all those thoughts of love and love stories.

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“And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.”

– Khalil Gibran

About FS

Toronto, Canada. Writing about slices of life, the moments and minor details of which come into awareness or out of imagination and the spaces inbetween. On hiatus from writing ... at least for now.
This entry was posted in lesbian, lesbian life and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Thoughts of love, pieces of a love story

  1. Valerie says:

    Dear FS;
    Tis a bubble of pure sweetness this post…. thank you for sharing.
    I’ll reflect upon that Gibran quote now…. ” love, if it finds you worthy…” : is anybody not worthy of love?

    • FS says:

      Gibran was an odd and curious person, and personnified this thing called love. I cannot pretend to know whether he’d think some worthy of love, or not. As to whether anybody is not worthy of love, I shall have to ponder that. Or I could say, that’s not for me to say 🙂

  2. kodamae says:

    Charming and lovely. Drops of Love are a joy for ever 🙂
    Buona giornata!

  3. Jen says:

    Your words are one of two bright spots in an otherwise dreary rainy Upstate New York day. Thank you, days should always have more than one. If the weather still has me down later, I’ll just read it again if you don’t mind 😎

  4. bookishbutch says:

    e.e cummings and Pooh, two of my ‘maitre a penser’. I always want, need, another-Kiss:-)

    • FS says:

      Dear BB: Hmmmm. I could thank you for reading through and sticking with it to the end ;-). Instead I will wish for you on this rainy day (snow in Montreal) all the kisses you could possibly want, need, and then some.

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