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Love...

It was quiet, a gray scale painted the walls with the shadows of a dusky evening spent behind closed shades. Her hair sprawled out under her head. "What?" she asked. Her eyes smiled. She has freckles in this light...how come I've never realized that before? 

I thought when I told a woman I loved her for the first time there would be fireworks and music and kisses in an amusement park. I'd pick her up as the orchestra swelled and I'd spin her around as the camera panned back. 

Maybe, I'd yell it just before that door slammed or the top window shut. Maybe there'd be a thunderstorm.

Maybe she'd say it back, maybe she wouldn't...but it would happen and we would all know....we would know the way middle schoolers know everything....that life was happening exactly how it was supposed to. We would be living this consummate moment where both the beginnings and endings of stories were simultaneously taking place.

…We would be happy.


"I love you" I said. She looked at me, then at the ceiling. "I love you too." 

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