By storm

Twelve years ago today she had sat, half on, half off the settee while he spoke to her of love, heartache, and one great loss that had hidden details; nuances he had felt compelled to share with her.

Relishing his voice while simultaneously contemplating the sheer improbability that this handsome, forthright man was opening up to her for any reason other than the fact that he was lonely and perhaps starving for a conversation that did not involve condolences and pity, she had found herself faced with a dilemma: whether to answer his question with a trite and complacent “I’m fine, busy, but fine,” or to reward his openness with her own.

She had chosen the latter, immediately releasing a torrent of pent up emotions and angst over her mother, whose worsening dementia, sudden weight loss and growing despair had kept her teetering precariously on the edge just shy of insanity.

Instead of recoiling at her insensitive sharing; after all, his far more pressing needs should have kept her silent, he had listened intently, his eyes penetrating her soul, so that speaking anything other than truth had become impossible, and it was only then, when she had exhausted her thoughts, that he had offered her his unfettered, unfiltered opinion.

This, she realized while packing for their annual unofficial-anniversary sojourn, is when they had begun making memories together; their souls becoming inseparable after one conversation, after which nothing else had existed but the amazing love that would take them, unexpectedly, beautifully, by storm into the wildest and best ride of their lives.

Lillie McFerrin

This week’s word: memories

20 thoughts on “By storm

  1. Oh wow, I love this! An unexpected beginning to love…and those memories we make together.
    You’re able to reach right inside and bring out those treasured, but often unusual or unexpected, moments of peoples’ lives Britton. I always look forward to your writing showing up on my Blog list!

  2. Lisa, your visits always lift me up and put a smile on my face. I made a few edits since you read this post…so perhaps it is better now. I’m about to hop on the trail of visiting others, including yours…right after I post a pic for this – which I forgot. Give it 5 minutes and you’ll see the pic as well. Again, thank you, Lisa!

  3. Hollywood tells us love happens when lovers drop their clothes. As you point out so well, it really happens when lovers drop their guard, the armor and misleading deflections that society demands. A tender thought for the day!

  4. Very sneaky of you to suggest she had chosen to open up when, in fact, everything about this intricate (yes, to Jayne’s Irish lace image), condensed love story suggests the choice was beyond her (btw, your reply to my comment on your last post was duly noted, and brought a smile to my face 😉

  5. Hey Britt! This is a beautifully-crated piece. And, on a personal note, this is how all of my relationships start; not with passion, but with trust. Okay, and a little passion. Indigo x

    1. Ok, that’s it, Indigo! I ignore everyone, including you…and still you come and comment on my post. You are, as I already knew, a gentleman and a scholar. Thanks for the undeserved visit–I will get back to cyberspace soon. Meanwhile, I’m going to get that pic to send you…

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