I am not a believer in love at first sight. For love, in its truest form, is not the thing

of starry-eyed or star-crossed lovers, it is far more organic, requiring nurturing and time

to fully bloom, and, as such, seen best not in its callow youth but in its wrinkled maturity.

Like all living things, love, too, struggles against hardship, and in the process sheds

its fatuous skin to expose one composed of more than just a storm of emotion–one of loyalty

and divine friendship. Agape. And though it may be temporarily blinded by adversity,

it never gives in or up, holding tight to lofty ideals that transcend this earth and

time–while its counterfeit simply concludes it was mistaken and quickly runs off to

find the next real thing.

THE LETTER

“We all got things under our skin. Everybody does. Like a glass sliver. Can’t see nothin’

there, but it works its way in deeper until it gets to festerin’ and hurts so that we’re ready

to just cut the whole thing out”

David poured himself another glass.

“Comes a time that everyone needs to find their answers. Need to connect with their

past. You ain’t crazy, David, you just filled with the spirit of Elijah.”

“What is that?”

“Like the Bible talk ‘bout. Turnin’ of the children’s hearts to the parents.”

David looked down and frowned. “Then I get to thinking that I should let it go–

maybe there is nothing to be gained. Maybe my mother was like MaryAnne–she fell out

of love.”

Lawrence groaned incredulously. “MaryAnne never stopped lovin’ you. Lord, David,

you talk ‘bout love like it a hole. Somethin’ you can fall in and out of.”

“Isn’t it?”

His aged face wrinkled in indignation. “That ain’t love at all, just squirrel fever. Just

a storm of emotions.” Lawrence grimaced. “Man sees a pretty skirt and calls it love.Most

women folk ain’t much smarter. Give more credence to butterflies than friendship. Real

love’s ain’t that way. It’s more like a tree or plant or somethin’.”

“How’s that?”

“Grows if you take mind to it. But it takes work and sacrifices. No one stand back of

a neglected tree and watch it die and say, “Guess that tree just ain’t suppose to live.’

Only a fool would talk like that. But people do it all the time with their loves.”

THE LETTER

Even as I withheld my love from MaryAnne, she had never stopped filling me

with hers. I had never supposed how cold my world would be without her warmth.

THE LETTER

A broken heart is always looking for a mend.

THE LETTER

It is, perhaps, the greatest irony of love. That which we truly love, we must be willing

to give up for its own benefit. And in this I knew how much Faye meant to me. For

as breathless as the possibility of losing her left me, there was no question in my mind

that I would lay down my heart as a stepping-stone for her to reach her dreams. To do

less would be a counterfeit of love, a forgery with no value other than what self-indulgent

fraud could be had of it. That’s what I knew. At least, that’s what I thought I knew.

What I had not factored into the equation, perhaps never dared to, is that I was the

greater part of her dreams.

THE LOCKET

“I love you, not for the things you have, or even what you might have or might become

someday–but because of who you are right now and how you make me feel. I love

the goodness of your heart. I have friends who have married rich boys with poor hearts

and I pity them, in their new cars and big new homes for all their poverty.”

“I believe it a great irony that I learned of life

from one dying, and of love from one so lonely.”

THE LOCKET

“It took me years to understand that when you truly care about someone, you must

focus on more than your own desires. To truly love something is not to desire a thing,

but to desire its happiness. That’s why love requires sacrifices. Sometimes painful ones.”

He paused for emphasis. “Some of the other boys Faye brings home I could never have

this conversation with, but you’re different. You understand my meaning.”

His casual injection of “other boys” stung me, but I did not show it. “I think that I do.”

“I don’t need to tell you that life is hard. You never know what’s around the next bend,

and sometimes it knocks the wind out of you. That’s the way marriage is as well. How

often do you see a couple years down the line still staring goo-goo eyed at each other?

It just doesn’t happen.” He leaned forward, his brow bent in grave inquiry. “Do you

know why?”

“No, sir.”

“It is because romantic love is an illusion. It portends an eternal round of ecstatic bliss

with love conquering all. That’s how all relationships start. But then the silver lining

begins to tarnish and the honeymoon ends. Pretty soon she’s complaining because you

haven’t been out to dinner for a month and there’s not enough in the bank account, even

while your boss is breaking your back.” He took another drink. “All relationships start

on fire. But the embers cool.”

“Is that how it is with you and Mrs. Murrow?”

He didn’t like my question, and for the first time I detected the anger that simmered

beneath his calm facade. Then, inexplicably, his lips rose in a whimsical smile as if we

had been playfully sparring and I had just scored a point.

“You do understand that romance will disappear. And then what have you? Only the

life that you have built for yourselves.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “It may sound naive, but I think you are wrong.

I believe it’s after the honeymoon ends that true love begins. It’s in the hard times that

the greater virtues of love reveal themselves, like tolerance and patience and kindness.”

THE LOCKET

Though I continue to rebuff her advances, the boarding house owner’s daughter is

well-dispositioned toward me. At times, hearts are the most traitorous of devices. They

tumble headlong and blindly toward obvious dangers while they obstinately protect us

from that which would likely do us the most good.”

THE LOOKING GLASS

With all my heart I miss Faye. It may be better to have loved and lost than never to

have loved at all, but my aching heart is not convinced of it. The teetotaler is grateful

to never know the agony of a drink’s beckoning.

THE CAROUSEL

“L’amore è cieco, ma il matrimonio gli rid la vista.”

Love is blind. Marriage restores one’s vision. –Italian Proverb

THE LAST PROMISE

“Il tempo di solito è bello quando si fa l’amore.”

The weather is always fair when people are in love. –Italian Proverb

THE LAST PROMISE

Love is never convenient—and rarely painless.

THE SUNFLOWER

Love, like for forgiveness, is often found in the confession of it.