Monday, February 2, 2009

True Love by Judith Viorist

True love
Judith Viorist

It is true love because

I put on eyeliner and a concerto and make pungent observations about the great issues of the day

Even when there's no one here but him,

And because

I do not resent watching the Green Bay Packers
Even though I am philosophically opposed to football,

And because

When he is late for dinner and I know he must be eithe having an affair or lying dead in the middle of the street,

I always hope he's dead.

It's true love because

If he said quit drinking martinis but I kept drinking them and the next morning I couldn't get out of bed,

He wouldn't tell me he told me,

And because

He is willing to wear unironed undershorts

Out of respect for the fact that I am philosophically opposed to

And because

If his mother was drowning and I was drowning and he had to choose
one of us to save,

He says he'd save me.

It's true love because

When he went to San Fransisco on business while I had to stay
home with the painters and exterminator and the baby who
was getting chicken pox,

He understood why I hated him,

And because

When I said playing the stock market was juvenile and irresponsible
and then the stock I wouldn't let him buy went up twenty-six points,

I understood why he hated me,

And because

Despite cigarette cough, tooth decay, acid indigestion, dandruff, and
other features of married life that tend to dampen the fires of passion,

We still feel something

We can call

True love.

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