First Fall

She said she used to look at my hands.
She’d watch me play the piano while I sat with my eyes closed.
She muttered to herself, “Strong hands”.
But I was lost in the melody and completely unaware of her gaze.
She’d quickly avert her stare as I emerged from my musical euphoria.
I would find out about this much later after the exchange of hearts and devotion.
I wonder if she ever imagined that someday those hands would hold her close and trace her smiling lips.

She said she used to listen to my music.
CDs of original material in various stages of completion.
Feedback fuels my creativity and she filled me up.
I valued her opinion.
She loved my voice.
I wonder if she ever imagined that someday there would be a collection of my songs written for and about her.

She said she used to dread the thought of me being with someone else.
While we were just friends she’d push away these invading thoughts.
But she embraced the unspoken answer with a kiss.
There would never be anyone else.
She was my time’s occupation.
I wonder if she knew at the time that I was dreading the same thing.

Sometimes it’s good to remember the beginning and retrace the steps of the journey.
Sometimes it’s as simple as remembering how you first fell in love.

Categories: prose, relationships, writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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One thought on “First Fall

  1. So true. My husband and I fell in love all over again while planning our twenty-fifth anniversary party.

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