Young Lovers

Reminisce

It was a sunny weekend. A few clouds lolled across the sky, obscuring the trees and grass beneath in shade that did little to dismiss the heat and bugs that came with the day. A few people were walking, some were playing soccer. And two were laying on the grass, talking on and on about their favorite childhood books.

The day had begun with nervousness; the preparations had started days ago at a friend's sleepover. First dates always tended to be like that, full of awkward giggles and a little bit of the phenomenon commonly known as "trying too hard". But not here. Conversation flowed just as easily as the grass bent in the wind. The cuddles on the grass itched but still somehow felt like heaven, and the talk was incessant.

One book led to another, to a television show, and back to a book. There must have been a few confessions of "you are cute", too, I don't know what our life could have been without that.

Our long, long life.

Now we sit here, you tucked onto my shoulder, your hand in mine and a dog at our feet. We've grown old, and both our hair has greyed. Plants are scattered around the room, and books spread haphazardly around. A dog toy or two decorates the floor, accompanied by a pair of shoes by the door. A wiccan altar stands on a small table by a window that shows a view of a yard, completed with a small garden and a shady trellis guarding a stone bench.

You have not let your age ruin your beautiful, adorable smile. Your dimples may be a little more hidden with the wrinkles that grew in your face but I still see the cutest face that ever crossed my eyes every time I manage to make you smile. I cherish that. You still draw, and write, and I am lucky to be able to admire your work every day. Your work on movies may be at an end, but your work on stealing every last bit of my heart with talent and love has never ceased, no matter how difficult our lives became.

I turn to you and press my face into your hair, you have always been my most welcome comfort and now is no different. We raised kids together, raised even more dogs, but now it is our time to take a break and to rest. My hands are too weak now from the hours of practicing when I was younger, so I only play the piano sometimes when we need some music in our lives. At least I don't have to hold that up like I would my precious flute! Together we sing songs that we sang years ago, and we sing new songs that we make up, and our harmony is just as sweet as it was when we were young. The sheet music alone is stacked high under and in the piano and its bench, I will never understand how music seems to multiply.

You never lost your kindness, the kindness I fell in love with and cried so much over having to be parted from, because you had become my rock and my home and nobody wants to be separated from their home, even for the college of their dreams.

We still go to see the new superhero movies when they come out, and we call up our best friend Satan and his partner, a person who fits with him so well they seem to be a single person, sharing one brain and one thought. We all sit in the back and we listen to the exuberance of the fans in front of us, knowing that they will become like us in the future.

But the time for reminiscing is over; we both need to put together some dinner for us and the dogs. Then maybe we'll read before going to sleep. One of us will hold the other as we fall asleep, safe, content, and warm. What comes next will only be shown to us with time. Until then, my love.