It’s our first date. Except we both agree that it isn’t, because it’s the only way you can get me to agree to meet you for dinner. There’s no pressure. We talk, we laugh, we enjoy ourselves. You’re kind, considerate, and funny. The chemistry is almost tangible. I know right away that I like you…but I don’t want to.

It’s not the first time we’ve met. That was three years ago, maybe more. But I was forbidden then. And maybe I still am, but you don’t care anymore. You don’t want to just walk away.

It’s our second outing. You have tickets for a basketball game. It’s supposed to be casual. It’s a group thing. Except the rest of the group doesn’t show up until halfway through the night. We end up at a festival by ourselves before the game starts. It’s definitely a date. But it’s cute, and I don’t mind.

Later that night, much later, we end up alone again. Emboldened by the darkness, we share our stories and our secrets, until we eventually share a kiss. There is passion, comfort, and longing in that kiss. It’s a beginning.

We date. Casually, and then very quickly, exclusively. We’re in love, but we’re immature. We can’t compromise, we can’t see each other’s point of view. It’ll never work, but we keep trying. Until neither of us wants to anymore. It’s broken, and we go our separate ways.

But your arms feel like home, and I still have your heart. We haven’t let go, not really. We don’t know if we can. So, we tear it all down and start over. And this time, there is magic—but it’s grounded in reality. We face hard truths. We debate, we compromise, we are unyielding in our honesty… and still, we are in love.

We still aren’t sure if it will work…then one night, we are more sure than we’ve ever been about anything. There is no one else. There is nothing else.

Then there are nights like this. Ordinary nights, in the middle of the week, when nothing is happening at all. We have no more secrets to share, but we still have plenty to say. Your arms still feel like home, and there is magic in our kiss. And I’m reminded that we were right. There is no one else… there is nothing else. And I’ve never been more sure.

Written By: S.M. Grady

© 2019 S.M. Grady