My Lover

Her name is Georgia and I love her. She’s in grade 10 and I’m in grade 12, but it doesn’t matter to me because I love her. My buddy says he likes older girls, but it wouldn’t matter to me if Georgia was in college or in grade 9. I love her. As a kid I never really understood love. Mom would tell dad she loved him and dad would say the same to her. But I never knew what they meant.

Now I know love is when you heart feels like it’s floating outside of your body. When you look at someone’s overwhelmingly glittering eyes and you can’t help but wear the biggest smile. When your stomach is twisting on the inside just by one single thought of their soft voice. Love is that feeling you get about a person when your mind or your eyes wanders to them. That feeling is what keeps me going in life.

But my parents love is different. I always wondered why it was never the same as anything I’ve seen before. I don’t know how, it’s just different.

Earlier this morning I saw a box in the attic of some old things stashed from my parents first apartment together. I found a couple notes and stashed them in my bag to read later. They are addressed to “My Lover.” I pull them out of my bag and hold the brown paper in my hands. Wow! These are my parents old love letters!

I began reading:

“My Lover, I know you probably hate me. And I hate you too. But I still love you. No matter what happens, no matter how I feel about you, I will love you. I will fight for you. I will be there for you. I’ll always bring you flowers when your feeling low, and I’ll love you even when it’s hard to. So even though I hate you at this point in time, I’ll always love you.


Your Lover”

I feel my face shrivel in confusion. What did I just read? How can you hate someone and love someone at the same time? How can you feel both love and hatred. Is love not merely the feeling? But then what is it?

I see my parents fight sometimes but they always make up with a hug or a kiss. Even when it looks like they hate each other they stay. Even without that feeling they find it in them to love. Maybe love is more than just a feeling. Maybe love is when you care for someone so much that you go out of your way to show them. And even when it’s hard to feel like your floating, or to smile in their presence, you still show them you care. Maybe that’s true love.

Her name is Georgia and I love her. Not because of the feeling, but because I care for her. And if tomorrow I don’t feel like showing her my care, I will anyways because I love her. I’ll send her flowers when she needs them, I’ll tell her jokes when she’s sad. I’ll do what’s hard because she’s worth it. Our love is forever and always.

Your Lover

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