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What If Vol 2-1

Her Profession of Love 

She’d wanted the words.

She’d expected the words,

but never expected the

deep-felt sincerity witnessed by his tears.

“I love you,” I repeated,

scrubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands.

“That’s why I did what I did today.

I knew it the second I saw you.

I couldn’t just walk out of your life,

or let you walk out of my life.

What I told your mother is true :

I’m not like that!

Actually I’m kind of shy and thought

I’d never go up to a girl like I did,”

I smiled,

“especially if she’s with her mother,

and say, ‘hi, there,  

I just fell in love with your daughter,

so can I have her phone number

so I can call her

so we can get to know each other

so that, maybe…

oh, God,

so that maybe she’ll fall in love with me, too’.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

She did, though.

Susan knew exactly what she wanted to say.

“God, Susan, I’m such a jerk.”

“No, you’re not!

Why would you say such a thing?”

“Why?

First off,

I’m sitting here,”

averting my face,

exaggerating slightly,

“crying like some kind of a baby.”

Turning away as she approached,

“Here you go, kids.”

I turned back when the waitress left.

I don’t think you’re a jerk at all.

Guys always think they’ve got to act like…

‘Guys’ and I think it’s really beautiful.”

“Oh, yeah!

Grown men always cry!”

“What I mean is,

it’s wonderful that you can show your feelings this way.”

Trying to get a hold on her own emotions,

cutting into the pie,

Susan put a piece in her mouth.

“You may think it’s neat for a guy to cry

when he tells you he loves you,

but personally

I think it’s really dumb and I feel like a dope.”

Placing her fork onto the edge of plate,

looking him in eye,

“No, it’s not dopey at all!

Don’t feel that way!

Do you think you’d have

ever gotten my number if I didn’t

want you to have it?

I saw you there too, you know.

And I was wondering how

I was going to meet you,

but a girl can’t just go up to a guy

and introduce herself,

especially,”

smiling,

“if she’s with her mother.”

Stopping, debating with herself,

wondering if she should go on,

and if she did,

how much she should say.

“Then,”

going on,

“when you stood up,”

Susan said,

“I thought you were leaving,”

her throat thickening,

“and when you put your jacket down and came to me…”

 hesitating again,

 thinking,

No, don’t tell him!

But, her emotions at play also,

“it was like God was answering my prayer.”

Quiet a long moment

absorbing her words,

“Praying?”

I asked incredulously.

“You were actually praying to meet me?”

Swallowing, “Yes,”

blinking back tears,

Thinking Don’t say it,

but,

“I feel like you do,”

Susan whispered.

“I love you, too.”

What If Vol 2-2

Samson 

“You love me?”

Daring to believe,

but fully overwhelmed by Susan’s emotional declaration.

“You love me!”

Feeling the thickening in my throat again,

but able, this time,

to hold back tears,

touching my thumb to her cheek,

lifting a running tear,

putting the tear onto my tongue,

“There, Sue, now we’re a part of each other.”

Taking her hand,

holding her palm to mouth

I kissed Susan’s hand,

and kissing it,

smelled the fragrance of Susan’s flesh.

God! Thinking the thought again,

“Susan,” I said, moving her hand from my lips,

turning it upright,

studying her hand as if to confirm that this was truly happening,

that this was truly Susan’s hand,

“This whole thing…”

I said reflectively.

“I’m not a religious guy, Sue,

not at all.

But don’t you see why it happened?”

So long as she had mentioned God and praying,

even though I fully believed it,

reiterating, 

“It’s God! God wanted us to meet each other.

Why else would we both be at Walgreens,

at the same time?

And how come,

all of a sudden,

how come I had the nerve to talk to you?

And why would you and me…

you and I…

fall in love with each other the second we saw each other?

Why?”

Truly believing,

“God.” Susan answered.

“God!”

                                    ***

…Samson.

Walking slowly in the thickening snow,

strangely,

the feel of Susan’s bare hand brought biblical Samson to mind.

And as Samson knew his hair,

his strength,

was a gift from God,

I sincerely felt that Susan was my gift from God.

And with her inexplicable,

seemingly completely reciprocal love,

for the first time in my life I felt I  could do monumental things

—yes, even pass a college entrance exam.

What If: Vol 2-3

First Kiss 

Walking with Susan,

merely walking alongside Susan

conveyed an aura of physical comfort

and spiritual warmth that,

literally,

gave me the sensation of walking on air.

Turning off the brightly lit avenue

onto the comparative darkness of a side street,

at a point between the waning light of one streetlight

and the increasing brightness of the next,

as though arriving at a preordained location,

stopping,

turning to each other,

his arms about her waist,

her arms about his neck,

for a long moment each looked at the shadowed face

of the other through the falling snow and semi-darkness…

Their lips touched…

Soft…

Pure…

As soft and pure and chaste as the falling snow that swirled about them.

Each standing within the arms of the other,

the bulk of  winter clothing separating their physical bodies,

both sensed the deeply felt mental warmth of loving,

…of being loved.

For this,

their first kiss,

sensing their universes’ spin,

nothing more…

nothing other than this purely chaste kiss was needed,

nor wanted.

For this,

our first kiss,

I had a far off sense

of kissing this kiss before;

as kissing this kiss as in a different life,

of being in this place before,

other than snowflakes, though,

I had the remembrance of fireflies.

This sensation of déjà vu adding to the mysticism of this night,

 and of this soul-moving kiss.

Oh…

In wonder,

within her mind

the simple word

Oh, was thought,

because now,

for the first time in the years of her life

—other than the love of her fanily—

Susan Friedman now knew the meaning of love.

To be continued

©January  27, 2012 / Mark M. Lichterman