I'm Not Trying To Convey A Message,

I Find My Voice And Manage To Say Those Three One-syllable Words Back To Him. Words I Haven't Uttered In A Very, Very Long Time. Words That Meant Nothing Before Now.

Which Always Raises The Interesting Question Of Whether Redheads Pursue Other Redheads In A Narcissistic Way, Or Simply, Because They Have No Other Choice, As Nonredheads Aren't Interested.

Maybe That's What It All Comes Down To. Love, Not As A Surge Of Passion, But As A Choice To Commit To Something, Someone, No Matter What Obstacles Or Temptations Stand In The Way. And Maybe Making That Choice, Again And Again, Day In And Day Out, Year After Year, Says More About Love Than Never Having A Choice To Make At All.

It Was The Same Night I Gave Myself To Him Completely, Knowing That I Would Belong To Him For As Long As He Wanted To Keep Me. And, As It Turned Out, Even Longer Than That.

And Like A Favorite Old Movie, Sometimes The Sameness In A Friend Is What You Like The Most About Her.