I’m out of practice. All my words start with love, end with love and somehow mostly mean love. How’s that for something to write about?
Most of us, as people, spend alot of time analyzing the ins and outs and the wherefores and whereartthou’s of this thing called love. I did. For me, I think it’s because love has never snuck up on my before, never just happen out of “happenstance”. What would be new and refreshing is now REALLY new and refreshing as new experiences are always.
It is the one thing I do keep playing over and over in my mind. Just when did I come to love you? was it before I ever knew you? was it the reading of your words? was it the first time I sat across from you drinking a beer and talking like friends do? was it in the touching of your hand, the hug, the smile of our meetings? was it?
It snuck up on me so fast and easily that like a small town, you blink and you miss it. Maybe I did. I was in the car, my hand on your knee and I almost said I love you like I’d said it a thousand times. Love just appeared, out of the collective. It was there like it had always been there and it was a big as ever. But I hadn’t said it to you before and I stopped myself then because I didn’t want to first time I said it to be while driving down some boring highway in Dallas. It’s been the only thing I’ve had to think about so far with you. It is, you are, easy and uncomplicated in all the best ways. My Ori…my love