The L Word

Rain - crop

“I love you,” she whispered in my ear. And that was it. I suddenly think I don’t need anything else in this life. I’ve never said that word to her (maybe I should, then she could say ‘I love you too’), but hell, it feels so damn good this way.

She loves me. Yes yes yes! Hahaha… I mean, she is gorgeous. She is fierce but funny, she is independent but needy, and despite her being obnoxious at times, she is actually sweet. I am not sure why she loves me. But she does and that’s all I need to know.

Getting overwhelmed by that L word (which I rarely use myself), my radar has become sensitive and it easily spots the word when it’s out there. Especially when it comes from her and damn! I just realised she says that word a LOT.

“Oh, I love this purple dress!” So, she loves the dress. Although I must admit she looks wonderful in it, but… loves it?

“You know, I really love chocolate Soufflé at Otel Lobby!” It takes twenty minutes to have the Soufflé and she joked she loves it because it will give us twenty minutes more together. What a sweet cheesy line of her. But since when a person really loves chocolate?

“I love Robbie Williams!” who the hell is Robbie Williams? Um, I smell a competition here.

“I love rain…” she said softly while holding me tighter. That makes me appreciate the rain more.

And… “I love you,” she said again with her sparkling eyes. I smile, for a second feel doubtful if her ‘I love you’ to me is special. What is this love? Is it the same love to that purple dress? Or that Soufflé? Or that fucking British dude (yes, googled him)? Or even the rain?

Strangely, I am afraid the answer is yes. I think I fall in love with her. And mine is definitely different from my feeling to any dress, food, dudes, or rain – no matter how peaceful and calming it is.

“I think I love you too,” I said with inexplicable jealousy.

“You think or you know?” she asked.

Damn, what’s the difference? I then just shut her mouth.


Painting by Leonid Afremov

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409 Days

I still count the days, you know?

The days since our first sight
The days since our first hug
The days since our first kiss
The days since our first I love you
The days since our first good-bye

Funnily, it all comes to one count
It’s been four hundred and nine days

And it still counts…

Don’t count the days, make the days count…