14 Oct

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: True Love

Best Friends

By Kay Conner Pliszka

A friend loves at all times…
~Proverbs 17:17

I’m a hopeless romantic. But my husband, Mike, is probably the most unromantic guy I know. When I was growing up I pictured myself being married to someone who would take my hand when we went for walks, shower me with affection, and enjoy long, heartfelt conversations about special feelings and philosophies.

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I think Mike reached for my hand once since we’ve been married. He was lying in a hospital bed waiting for surgery and fearing he might die. That doesn’t count!

Hugs I get — when he wants a new car, a $300 Precision Graphite Classic OS tennis racquet, or a golf trip with his buddies.

As for philosophical talks, forget it. I don’t even try.

And when it comes to romantic lingo — after I say “I love you” Mike’s typical response is, “Right back at ya, kid,” or “Me, too, you, Babe.” Hardly heartwarming.

I think Mike was the inspiration for the story about the woman who said to her husband on their anniversary: “Honey, we’ve been married forty years and since our wedding you have never said I love you.” The husband replied, “I said it once and if anything changes I’ll let you know.”

But there is chemistry between us and a joyful oneness of spirit — like when he says or does goofy things to make me laugh so hard my sides ache and I can’t catch my breath and I have to beg him to stop; or when something happens that reminds us of the past and we say the same thing at the same time and others haven’t a clue what we’re talking about; or when he looks at me during a concert of beautiful music with tears in his eyes and wipes my wet cheek knowing our hearts are one at that moment.

Mike says I am his best friend. I guess that’s more important than a lot of romantic jargon, public display of affection, and all those other fantasies of mine.

And I do know that he loves me. After back surgery, the doctor said I shouldn’t use a vacuum cleaner for at least a year. Now, twenty-nine years later, Mike still does all of the vacuuming. “It might hurt your back,” he says. He has never voiced a complaint or even accused me of bribing the doctor. Now if that’s not love, I don’t know what is!

Reprinted by permission of Chicken Soup for the Soul Publishing, LLC (c) 2010. In order to protect the rights of the copyright holder, no portion of this publication may be reproduced without prior written consent. All rights reserved.

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Posted by on October 14, 2011 in Uncategorized


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