love like ours

"Yes, I'll marry you," I replied to Spoke on a New Year's Day. 

Sometimes I'm asked why Kevin's nickname is what it is and though I'm not evasive, the explanation may appear that way.  I explain it came from a moment of silliness, the two of us giggling our way through a basketball game one afternoon, timely repartee bouncing between us. 

"Spoke" was the slam dunk. 

If I said more, it wouldn't make sense to you and then also, as small and silly as it is, it would no longer belong to us. 

"When love like ours arrives, we guard it with our lives." 

From the shadows of this passing year, I've watched guards be let down.  How casually and carelessly intimacies have been shared...  I've learned of indiscretions, suspected others, and I'm entering the new year privy to much I shouldn't know and don't wish to know. 

"Well, what if some week, Kevin is just driving you crazy-mad," a friend asked as a small group of us were out to dinner.  "Who would you go to?  Who would you talk to?" 

"I'd talk to him," I said. 

My words seemed to hang in the air for the longest time. 

Yet it's that simple, that honest, that clear.   

Swish. 

All net.





Love Like Ours
A. Bergman, M. Bergman, D. Grusin