The Look of Love

Every time is like the first time. It starts with a few surreptitious looks. Glances almost out of the corner of your eye, as if to confront the love object head on will dazzle you into blindness.

Then you start making enquiries. Just for your own satisfaction you understand. You're never going to do anything about it. Out of your league.

Then you find yourself dropping a name into the conversation just to hear what it sounds like in your mouth. Your friends become suspicious.

Before you know where you are and quite how it happens you are going out together. By yourselves at first, out in the country alone where no-one else will know you. Eventually, you get to know each other. It's a little awkward and for a few days you wonder if you have made the right decision. But in your heart you know there is no going back.

You start to take a few pictures and you sneak a look on your phone, you can't quite believe your luck. Nothing's made you sweat with joy like this.

Eventually introductions are made, your mates coo and admire your choice, you can tell they are jealous. Some may even darkly mutter that you are punching above your weight. You don't hear anything but her sweet voice mingling with the birds in the trees.

Soon you realise you fit together perfectly - all previous relationships a pale imitation of this the ideal marriage. You go away for long weekends together. You speed down lanes with the wind in your hair, you are dangerous and carefree. You are young beyond your years and wish you had met sooner. You are glad you got together at all. You enthuse to anyone who will listen. You are in love.

Every time is like the first time, maybe this time you won't start having your head turned by the latest young thing, maybe this time the glossy mags won't sing their Lorelei song, maybe this time it's for keeps.
Maybe...