Love and Other Words

by Christina Lauren

He was straightforward and quiet: he walked quietly, spoke quietly; even his anger was quiet. It was his love that was booming.

He’s my person. He’s always been my person. My best friend, my confidant, probably the love of my life. And I’ve spent the last eleven years being angry and self-righteous. But at the end of the day, he tore a hole in us, and fate ripped it wide open.

I saw Elliot Petropoulos yesterday for the first time in almost exactly eleven years and I realized that I’m still in love with him and probably always will be. Still want to marry me?

Elliot and words. Peanut butter and chocolate. Coffee and biscotti. Love matches made in heaven.

“It was always my plan to live wherever you were. That plan failed, but I figured my odds of seeing you again were pretty good back in Berkeley.”

“You’re the love of my life. I assumed I would get over you eventually, but seeing you yesterday?” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t go home to someone else and pretend to love her with everything I have.”

“Limerence.” There’s no other word like it: The state of being infatuated with another person.

“You act like you’re with him only because it’s easy. But in some ways, he’s your dad in this scenario, and you’re the woman who came after your mom. Sean doesn’t have as much to give, but you understand why. After all, you wouldn’t want to try to replace anyone.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home for eleven years. I’ll go anywhere you go.”

Listen, I know how this sounds, like I was seeing only what I wanted to see. But I’ve devoured the written word every day since I learned how to string letters together into words and words into language, and still, the thing I’ve always read best in the world is Macy Lea Sorenson.