I love your skin and the way you touch mine
the way you chop vegetables for a salad
thinly, correctly and with the maximum amount of crunch.
I love your legs next to mine as we recline together and the dusk approaches
and we have ended another day together.
I love the way you joke about ironing the newspaper so it will maintain a crease and even though I know you are joking there is that part of you which wants me and wants your entire solitary world too.
I love the way we wake up in the morning, turning to each other to start the day on its path and then on to coffee, green and red margarita juice, oatmeal laced with pecans and dates and a boiled egg. We eat two meals and this is the best one of the day. You are the chef most of the time and I follow your lead. I am so very glad to have someone to cook for me. My skin is glowing from a precise way of eating without junk foods, no or low salt and lots of fresh veggies and fruits.
I wish we had fifty years to blend, seep and come to understand each others’ bodies, lives to be lived and families which stretch around the world. I wish I had the emotional fortitude to love you as you are today into your eighth decade with acceptance and understanding and mountains of patience.
I fall short of my goal in loving you. I wonder what to do. I wonder if we will cooperate enough to figure it all out together or if we will continue our solitary journeys as you go north and I go toward the water once again.
Because love is a commitment to my health and yours and the secrets you keep within you may be more than I can bear and I am not sure if the lovingingness can give me the strength to be with you through such tears and heartache as you have known. In theory, I know I would want to be loved after so many good and tragic events in my life and yet, I feel myself pull up short and stop; I want to stop before it is too late. Stop before we go to the place of wanting to be together more and more and our lives become one path and the path will be a long arduous one and I want the ease of old age.
I love you with a selfish love. I want the parts of you I would select like a young girl, diffident and unyielding, believing somehow, I can have it all and not have to pay the price of loving and leaving you or loving and being left by you. It would seem we are in a holding pattern. My strings reach out to your heart and ask if you will share with me so our love can grow. Then, and then, I becomes scared and frightened. I do not need you for having children, I do not need you for financial security nor even for companionship. I want you because I love you and loving you is right for both of us. Convincing you is not the answer. Persuading is not the answer. Standing by is the answer.