Is She Really Going Out With Him?

by Sophie Cousens

Once we’re settled in a cosy corner with more red wine, I take his glasses from his face. ‘You don’t need these to appear smart. As soon as you open your mouth it’s obvious how intelligent you are.’ ‘Anna Appleby, was that a compliment?’ he asks, leaning towards me. ‘You’d better write it down, because you won’t be getting another one.’

I have no interest in looking at the moon anymore. I just want to look at you.

But maybe the perfect confluence of factors that makes for a good relationship is a rarity. To have real chemistry, to be at the same stage of life, to want enough of the same things and be compatible companions – maybe that doesn’t come along very often.

‘For me, falling in love feels like gazing up at a dark sky. First, there is nothing but blackness, then gradually your eyes adjust, a few stars come into view, then suddenly, you see everything – thousands of stars, an infinite spectrum of light. It’s mind-blowing. Falling out of love feels the same but in reverse. One by one the stars recede, grey clouds sweep in. Then one day you realise you are alone in the dark, there’s nothing out there.’

The baggage we carry isn’t a bad thing; it is our substance, our history, the experiences that make us who we are.

Because true love does not cower in the shadows; it roars, loud and proud, until it has given its all.