And They Lived . . .

by Steven Salvatore

“You ever hear a word, and then it lodges in your brain, so you’re mulling it over and over again until it either sounds like a completely made-up word or takes on a new meaning entirely?

What gets me is that ‘happily ever after’ is not even the important part of that line. The important part is ignored.” “Which is what?” I ask, a bit breathless. He pauses and points to three words on the page: And they lived. I look at him. His smile crinkles his nose. “Because the point isn’t that they were happy forever but that they lived. They took a chance and lived.”

His lips are the spark, my body the thunder that follows, shaking the earth.

Fairy tales are nice because they paint a rosy picture of love: Meet, sing a cute song, and bam! Marriage. But that’s not love. That’s fantasy. This? Facing the hard, gritty shit together, realizing you can survive the trials on your own, yet don’t need to because someone is willing to hold your hand as you grow? That, I think, is real love.

we exist in the breath between lightning and thunder where the end is a beginning that starts with three simple words a poem by your name that goes I love you I love you I love you