it’s a small caps kind of week. month.
my girlfriends know that when i can’t even bother to capitalize my sentences, it’s not a good week. i have a whole other site of private blog girlfriends…and you know who you are…that hold me up when i cannot capitalize. in my own defense however, you’ll notice my punctuation is correct.
i sit with my girlfriends. and they talk about their relationships.
how he came in a tuxedo, with a red rose, and it was march 20, and we met at a french restaurant. the beginning of the relationship. every girl remembers dates, places, texts, meeting places. i sit with them and they all describe the very same thing. that first moment when they knew he was the one. one girlfriend talks about the details so fresh, it’s almost like i was there. another friend describes that football game when he took her hand and kissed her for the first time and the band was playing a bad version of tusk. it was october, and they went looking for halloween costumes at the mall and he asked her if she would go with him to that party. and when they went, this guy was there…etc.
see? that’s how we are. as i’m listening to this group of strong women, i realize they’re in their world as they talk. re-living. re-loving. re-thinking about that thing that made them fall in love.
love is a good thing. i just wish lovers never fell out of love, or if they did, they did it before somebody did somebody wrong. yeah. that came from a country song.
i’m one of the girls who remembers all of it. every date. time. the weather as i drove home and was floating on air. and i thought i was unique. it turns out, that most women i know, know all the details from the beginning. and the end? it just ended. the description is flat and colorless and lacks oomph, because she really just wants to end the story already.
it’s a topic i’ve been thinking of lately. obviously.