The First Time He Said He Loved You…

The first time he said he loved you in his mind, he had just put down the phone after you called. The thoughts of you lingered long after you spoke. He was sitting down in his chair, the one by the computer and the window that let streams of light play patterns of shadows on his desk. The day was a normal and quiet one. The only sounds he heard were of your voice running through his head.

The first time he said he loved you to his friends, they were all sharing beers at the usual bar. The night was crowded, full of patrons and busier than normal. A spill adorned his shirt and the pretzels were stale. His friends ribbed him all night long, making jokes about how he was changing. His smiles and laughs were the brightest of them all.

The first time he said he loved you to his family, he was sitting down in the red easy chair, looking at his mom and dad – how they talked and reacted to each other. There had been a meal on the table earlier, dishes were done, and the TV made noise, but no one really paid attention. Just the warmth of the room and the comfort of years.

The first time he said he loved you, he was waiting for the right surroundings, the right mood, the right moment. There was a certain nervous color in his manner with the thought of telling you on his mind.

The first time he said he loved you, you came to him telling him of the busy day you had. Of the car that cut you off, the time you spent fixing problems, the person you made smile that day. He stood, in the middle of cleaning up a plateful of pasta he dropped – tomato sauce and broken pieces everywhere. He was glad you stopped by. You were late and had to go. Then he realized he didn’t want you to go. Lingering thoughts of you weren’t enough. The perfect moment he could not find, became perfect… the first time he said he loved you.

***

For he longest time I couldn’t decide what the person’s gender would be. So I flipped a coin. I hope it came out okay.