A Love Note

Let’s sit on the same side of the table while we steal tastes from each other’s plates without asking.

Unspoken permission is always granted with love like this.

When we walk, let’s embrace as we unknowingly synchronize our saunters.

Let’s write scribbly, little notes we can discover stuffed in our bedside tables, or find inside the books on the shelf when we reorganize one day.

Remember the time I tucked one in the front cover of that best seller you took on your work trip? It fell out at that coffee shop and everyone in line was envious of your smile.

Let’s be considerate when we make plans, aware of each other’s time and space.

Let’s share the details. This gives me fuel.

It helps me understand you a little more: who you are, what you do and how you live your life day to day.

I yearn to know you completely even though there’s no possible way I ever will.

You will keep a little piece tucked away, just for you, and I will do the same.

I love to look at you when you’re unaware that I am. To witness you interact with the world is my privilege. 

You are constant and ever changing. An enigma. My edge. My ocean.

I yearn to be beside you at all times.

On the days I cannot visit your shore, I take comfort in your echoed presence: your taste, your touch. 

I wear you on my face.

When I say your name or I think of you, my eyes wrinkle and my cheeks crease.

It’s obvious, you exist now and I am most myself simply by knowing you.

I wish to love you in the ways you need to be loved and I will honor them even if they challenge me.

That’s what you do when you love someone—you speak his language and in return, he speaks yours without doubt or question.

I’ve never understood why I need what I need.

You understand this more than I do.

Be needy, you say.

Affection is my sustenance from the right source.

You are mine and I am yours.

We show up for each other.

I will show up for you, my love, even if it’s inconvenient, and I will show myself to you, even if it’s uncomfortable.

I won’t censor myself, because, I trust you.

I know there will be many times you won’t agree with what you hear, but you will listen.

I will do the same.

I will never tire of telling you that I love you, or grabbing hold of your hand as we rise from the table and walk away from another meal shared.

Even if you’ve told me hundreds and thousands of times before, tell me again, because, it’s the first time every time.

That’s how I know this is true. You will never get old, not to me.

We will make plans throughout the hours, the days and the years.

They will stack one on top of the other until they create a history we can ache for as our bones brittle and the only strength we have left is our memory.

So, we spend the dusk of our lives reminiscing about the daylight.

We are the foundation upon which love built a life.

Even during the times we almost crumbled, we didn’t.

Love rescued us each time.

That’s what this love is for—miracles.

We are a miracle in the simplest form–I chose you and you chose me.

Indistinguishable flesh and bones and beating, bloody hearts filled with passion for this life we live at the same time, together.

We will feast on each other and never fill completely; it’s impossible to, because, this love is bottomless.

I will always have room for you.

For you, my love, are my eternal nourishment.

Rebecca Lammersen