Love In-between

I had a love once - at least, I hoped it was.

He moved like a man. In a world made for him, he owned the burden of privilege with the magnanimity of one who knows that he has it, but with the subtle lack of the understanding of it. Who can deny that?

He spoke like a man. With purpose, with pride. Charging through conversations speaking his "common sense" as fact - and he was most often correct. But not always. But who's counting?

He was tall like a man. Over 6 feet tall, towering over me as a protector, a humble guide through the fog of life that I couldn't see over. My neck hurt every time I looked up to make eye contact, but that was a personal problem. Who would say otherwise?

You would.

And I left and saw you one day, just standing there, on the other end of the room. My heart began to beat faster, but slowly over time, as if waking up from a slumber and shaking off the night. You moved like a willow in the wind, graceful and lithe. Your words were lovely, measured and graceful, steeped in contemplation. And I looked you right in the eye and I saw you and you saw me, and I realized that I didn't have a love once at all, but a pretender's charade. And one day, the charade will rise again, because I'll need to have a man to live, but for right now, in this moment, I choose to love, and I love you.