I'll Tell You What Love Is

The bar was crowded with teenage angst and cups and bottles and shots filled with liquid to chase unknown pills down rebellious throats. The loud and steady bump from the bass strained normal conversation so words were useless. I sat on the floor near the entrance in the corner with the shivering Great Dane, the only spot in that place where I felt I belonged. She was anxious from the crack of fireworks ending the year below the equator. The sticky Zimbabwean humidity formed beads of sweat on my face, or maybe I was just picking up her anxiety. The beast went unnoticed by the crowd despite her enormous size. A creature so large, yet so scared, and nobody else seemed to care. I slowly rubbed my thumbs up and down her snout and told her without words that it will be over soon. People will slowly begin to pair off to fill their beds with strangers, and others will carry their disoriented friends away. It will be over soon. In my best attempts to soothe her with my company, I ran my hand down her spine, and then my hand ran into his. He touched her with the same purpose, to calm her mind and to ease her loneliness. In silence we breathed in unison as we gently pulled our fingers through her fur. Her consistent shakes slowly began to fade to only waves with a tranquil stillness in between. Her breathing slowed, and she let us love her. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. Our eyes locked, and I knew at that moment that part of our purpose is to guide those that are scared, confused, and those that need to be loved.

He is my best friend because he knows that innocence should be protected. He knows that love knows no boundary. He's my best friend because I no longer have to sit alone in a crowded room. He's my best friend because my actions need no explanation. He understands my concern for a more compassionate world, and doesn't tell me I'm naive when I choose a path of forgiveness and patience. 

A few days earlier he asked me why I love him but so many words flooded the opened gate that I nearly drowned. That single moment with the dog slowed the wild river of reasons why I love him into a stream that I could easily keep up with. 

I love him because he counts the stars with me at night and never underestimates the miraculous nature of the sky. I love him because he appreciates stillness and silence. I love him because he doesn't just hear me talk, he listens with care. I love the excitement in his voice when he tells me a story and the intense gaze in his eyes afterwards when he realizes I was hanging on every word. I love him because we can sit outside on his porch, drinking wine, and listening to music without rushing to be anywhere else. I love him because we defy our own limitations using each other as motivation. I love the way he uses words to express difficult concepts and the way he opens his mind to constantly learn. He is humble, he is generous, and he is kind. I love him because he gives and doesn't expect anything in return. I love him because he takes me for who I am, whether I'm serious, sad, or silly in whichever fleeting moment. I love him because I can peer over the edge of my novel and watch him reading his at the same time. I love that he doesn't care who is watching when he kisses me, and that he holds my hand even in a culture where it's considered to be taboo. I love him because this list could go on until an entire book is full. I always thought I knew what romantic love is. I thought I wasn't fit for it. But now that I've found my other half I realized I've been waiting for him my entire life. 

Once the dog seemed more calm than when we first approached her we walked away to grab some food before getting a ride back to the tent. A few minutes later I glanced over towards the corner, and she was gone. I left with my hand in his knowing that his hand will be the last I will ever hold.