This Love

It’s a vintage copy of Sonnets from the Portuguese, with How Do I Love Thee? marked.

It’s rubbing of temples when he has a headache.

It’s scraping dog poop out of her bicycle tires with an allen wrench and a rag. Then telling her he usually uses her toothbrush when cleaning something with poop on it.

It’s two visits in one day to Home Depot.

It’s helping him fold his clean underwear.

It’s a bottle of scented lotion on the nightstand because he knows she can’t stand going to sleep with dry hands.

It’s a garbled “I love you” while wearing his anti-teeth-grinding mouth guard.

It’s a love note slipped into the novel she’s taking way too long to read.

It’s a pillow she keeps in the cupboard over her closet so it’s protected from cat hair contamination when he’s not there.

It’s a handful of quarters dropped into her purse because he knows she pays for her laundry.

It’s the mix she made him that has taken up permanent residence in his alarm clock CD player.

It’s a Saturday night of Tivo-ed cooking shows from under his grandma’s afghan on the couch.

It’s an espresso on a Sunday morning, delivered in bed.

It’s a Google Earth image cut up and given to her as a puzzle so she can figure out where her surprise birthday trip will be.

It’s the only midnight kiss on New Year’s.

It’s two Advil and a big glass of water when she has a hangover.

It’s helping her pick out her Christmas tree and stealing kisses from him in between ornament hanging.

It’s a stolen glance across the elevator at Target.

It’s an apology for accidentally drooling into his mouth when she kisses him from a funny angle.

It’s a yoga class where she reaches across the floor and holds his hand during one of the stretches.

It’s five kissy faces in a row on an IM message.

It’s not wanting to say goodbye.

It’s a promise that we can make it work, no matter the distance or varying time zones. That we can keep this intact even if it’s turned upside-down until the end of July.

It’s the best I’ve ever had.