“Have you ever loved me?” The question sounded weary, as if it had been trying to escape my mouth for a long time and finally found its release. I turned to look at her and awaited the answer.
Her lips pressed thinly together as she carefully picked her words. “I once loved someone for a single summer,” she began slowly. “Not even. But still…I can say pretty confidently that at the time, I was in love with him. That is, I knew that in each individual moment with him, I was overcome by the strongest passion I had known in my life so far.
“For him, I felt very strongly for only a handful of moments, but for you it is the exact opposite. All these years, I’ve only felt lukewarm. I never burned. Choose any instance in our history to ask if I loved you — even within a middle schooler’s definition of the word — and I would have said no.
“But maybe love comes in different forms. Maybe gold can weigh the same as feathers. Maybe years of drizzle can amount to a flood. Maybe a thousand stones can build a cathedral. This is the only way I can explain how I wasn’t in love with you, yet I think I love you.”
This is just an imaginary conversation I thought about and wrote down
Happy August! 😀