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cabaretic

Hoover, Alabama

Member Since 2005

Followers 15 Following 14

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Tuesday Mar 17, 2009

Mar 17, 2009
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We said it too soon, or at least I did. The irony being that only a couple days before, I referred to her as "my love" in casual conversation. I was attempting to find another term of endearment to punctuate romantic encounters, lest all the time-honored ones I'd been using grow stale with overuse. She grimaced and pushed back from me.

Let's not use that word for a while, okay, honey?

How much can anyone really love another person within a month or so of being a couple? It's so easy to confuse "love" with infatuation. Love implies a lasting bond and a kind of commitment that even good sex and better company cannot match. And yet, my subconscious mind had nearly said it five times prior, but I caught myself before it sprang, fully-formed, from my lips.

I love...chocolate!

I love...this movie!

When those three words in combination, not stifled by my best intentions, did travel from my brain to my vocal cords, I said it at probably the most cliched time ever, while in the act of intercourse. How many men have said the same thing during a particularly fruitful session of missionary position? We could fill several stadiums, at least.

I fully expected a similar to response to the one I got once with a different woman.

Underneath me at the time, she looked up with the beginnings of a smirk on her face, barely stifling a snort.

Okay, I'm going to give you a one-time only pass with that one and pretend you didn't say that.

I'm not going to lie to you. I was totally mortified when that happened, however long ago that was.

This time, however, the girlfriend, without even a trace of hesitation, mirrored my response.

I love you, too.

And I thought to myself. Oh shit. She means it. She really means it.

This is something I never accounted for in every scenario I'd worked out in my mind. And the question remaining now is, do I really love her? The phrase has been cheapened by years of saying it, meaning it, feeling it, and then drifting away from whomever it was I'd been seeing. With age comes disappointment and with age comes the feeling that if you do say you love someone, you ought to be damned careful about it. It's not to be taken lightly, and yet...

I said it. And now I'm dealing with the consequences.

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