May 5th, 2010


[Fiction] “You Say That…”

As we enjoy a day out together, first the museum after a big breakfast, then lunch at a quaint little cafe where we have some sandwiches. I drink a coffee, you some sweet tea. As we enjoy this beautiful, God-given day, you tell me something that just makes me go slack-jawed. You say that I shouldn’t love you, as if it’s something I could control. You say that you aren’t worth the feeling and that it isn’t mutual. You say that you’d like to continue getting together albeit only as friends. As I look back at the years we’ve spent together, the fun times we’ve had. The memories we’ve made. I only told her once how I felt, but even then it was only half an effort to express how I feel. I was scared. I still am. Now this.

You go on talking about the buildings we’ve been walking by, as if you just haven’t taken the wind from my lungs. My only thoughts are ever for God and you. Everything in me tells me that God has put us together. Everything in me tells me I wouldn’t have chosen you on my own. Yet I say nothing. I just listen, nodding in all the right places as I have nothing to say. Slowly, though, a resolve grows inside of me and I know it’s not my own. I slowly reach out and take your hand in mind, intertwining my fingers with yours, gripping firmly but gently. Gripping with a resolve to never let go. At first you try to pull your hand away and my stomach lurches up into my mouth but I don’t let go. You don’t miss a beat talking about the homes. It’s a silent exchange going on right now. Within the span of moments you go from trying to take your hand back from mine to gripping back. Without even any thought on my part, my thumb strokes the back of your hand and we both smile.

As we stop at a cross-walk you finish your talk on the architecture of the homes we just passed and turn to me. I turn as well, wanting to look you in the eyes and in that moment I know what you are going to say. “I do love you,” you smile as your free hand reaches up to my other hand.

“I know,” I respond lamely as a brobdingnagian smile crosses my face. With that we continue on with our outing, the last one we enjoy as just friends.

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Originally published at Ameliorations 1.0