Do You Mean Right Now?

Lisa and Stan were in bed, enjoying a quiet moment together. They had just made passionate love. It was their fifth time together. The relationship was new enough that they were still keeping count.

 Stan wanted Lisa to say the words first. This was important to him because he’d concluded that whoever uttered the words first was more in love than the partner who merely responded in kind. He waited, sensing the timing was right. He brushed aside several stands of her silver hair and kissed her. Lisa smiled, but didn’t speak. She stroked his bicep, tickling him.

Frustrated, he could wait no longer. He tried an indirect approach, not perfect, but possibly satisfactory. “Do you love me?” he asked.

 “Do you mean right now?”

 Surprised by her response, he said, “That’s a start, I guess. Fine, let’s go with that. Do you love me now?”

 “Sure, we just had sex. I love you now.”

 Worried, but curious Stan asked, “How long exactly, does loving me last following sex?”

 “I don’t know,” Lisa said. She pulled the bedsheet higher, close to her chin. “Why do you want to know?”

 He rolled to his left to face her, his stomach crowding her now. He would have to say it. “I love you and there’s no time or date stamp implied. I love you,” he repeated.   

 Lisa kissed him and leaned into him, hiding her tan face in his armpit.

 “Have you ever been in love before?” He asked.

 Lisa looked up at him. “I have, Stan. Twice and I got burned both times.” She sat up and stretched. “Whenever I’ve loved someone without what you refer to as a time or date stamp, I’ve been hurt.” She stood, put her hands on her hips and said, “There’s no time or date stamp on how long the hurt lasts, Stan. She took a few steps toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

 Stan folded his pillow. Lying on his back now, he placed it under his head. He looked at her ceiling, illuminated only by a plugin nightlight, studying the shadows and wondering what had just happened.

 Lisa climbed back into bed and initiated more lovemaking. When it was over, she said, “I upset you.” It wasn’t a question. She had sensed his mood correctly. 

 “It bothers me that you think you can control your feelings,” he said. “Loving me now, but maybe not tomorrow. Perhaps you’ll love me again the day after that.” He turned toward her again. “We can decide to fall in love or not. We make a decision, but once we decide to love someone there’s no turning back.”

 “People fall out of love. It happens a lot, you know.”

 “But they don’t fall in and out of love with someone on a daily basis.”

 “You’re wrong, Stan. We do control our feelings. Love is an emotion like fear or anger. Don’t you know that? Our emotions are based on circumstances.”

 “You’re not serious,” he said.

 “Be honest. When I refuse to tell you I love you beyond the moment, don’t you feel a tiny bit of doubt about your love for me?”          

 “No.”

 “It doesn’t occur to you that I might not be worthy of your love?”

 “I don’t want to talk about this,” he said.

 She ignored him. “You said love is a decision, but it isn’t. Love is a feeling and feelings come and go.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “Making a commitment is a decision, Stan. It’s dedication, loyalty, faithfulness, things that we prove to each other over time. Are you willing to make a commitment to our relationship?”

 Stan was wary now. “We haven’t known each other long enough.”

 “So, we know each other long enough for you to say you love me, but not long enough to commit. Is it fair then to say you love me now?”

 Too old to cry and too tired to argue, Stan retreated. “It’s almost midnight, Lisa, and I love you. Check with me in the morning for updates.”

 Satisfied, Lisa slept soundly that night. Stan looked at the shadows on the ceiling until dawn.