There was a week and a half there, maybe two, where we were perfectly happy. The reality that love doesn't fix everything else wrong with the world hadn't yet shouldered its way through the door of that first cheap apartment. We ate Chinese food, naked together in that bed that hadn't started to seem overly small. We talked, not having run out of mysteries. Our peculiarities were adorable, our human frailties endearing.
She's cut her hair; I have a bit of a paunch. We're naked only in the shower with the door locked. It's work, now. But it's still love.
Love IS work, indeed. And so worth it. Well done.ReplyDelete
Thank you for reading and commenting :)Delete
A novel's worth of story in so few bittersweet lines. Well done!! xoReplyDelete
I love this. Completely accurate, and endearing.ReplyDelete
Thank you very much :)Delete
Enduring love, the pilot light still on!ReplyDelete
Thanks for reading :)Delete
I had a love like that, but it didn't last. Brought back memories for me strangely enough.ReplyDelete
I appreciate your relating to it, thank you!Delete
The real stuff. Love this.ReplyDelete
I like this.ReplyDelete
Many people call love magical and dream of forever. I love and know it's work. I, too, cause much work but it's all good.
Thank you :)Delete
You romantic you...ReplyDelete
Oh to be cocooned in emotion at the beginning of things...thanks for sharingReplyDelete
And thank you for reading and for commenting :)Delete
ah first love!ReplyDelete
First and only, from the looks of things :)Delete
Now here is a human being. From one to another...love ya.ReplyDelete
no homo of course. awkward
Uh, okay? Lol.Delete