Love Games

We play this game, he and I. I think we both like it. Well, I do, anyway.

“I love you,” one of us will say.

“How much?”

The answers are never the same – it’s part of the game. Sometimes the answer is “As much as there is water on the planet” or “From here to Venus and back again.” Sometimes, when it’s my turn, (because I am a brat) I answer “3,052” or “7.5.”

“I love you.”

“Why?”

"Why not?"
“It’s chemical.”
“Because you’re cute.”
“Because you’re sexy.”
“Because you love me.”
“Because you tolerate me.”
“Because you’re a good cook.”
“Because I love the way I feel when I’m with you.”
“Good sex.” (Yep. We both really like that answer.)

I guess the truth is that I have no idea why he loves me. A mystery. I’m just glad he does. Really glad.

I don’t think I’ve ever given him the Real Answer. I feign indifference or befuddlement. “Because the dog likes you.” “Beats me. Just do.” But I know the answer. Right down to my toes, I know the answer.

He makes me feel as though I am his chosen one. After a lifetime of looking and disposing, the one he chooses is me. Me? Wow. It’s electric to be chosen and to be established as unique within the confines of a loving relationship. It’s addictive – this feeling that I am the center of his world. I am the sun. He revolves around me and basks in the light of my happiness.

I don’t think many women will find what I happily stumbled into, because so many men seem uniquely incapable of giving the two ingredients of chosen-ness – namely, primacy and exclusivity – to make a woman the one and the only. Funny that I never asked either from him, stuck as I was in my “me first” world and no longer able to believe in monogamy. A freely given gift.

I choose you, too. Over and over again. For all the days and nights of my life.

Happy Anniversary. Again. I love you. And I know why.