The Way Love Looks

The sun is beating down on my face. Beads of perspiration slowly make their way down my face from my forehead. Bolts of sharp pain shoot up my back, it feels as though we have been sitting here for hours, though I know it has only been an hour at most. The boat is rocking back and forth in the middle of the lake as if it’s trying to rock us to sleep. In my hands is the splintered and warm from the sun wooden handle of an old fishing rod from yesteryear. You always insist on using those, since your grandfather gave them to you when you were just a small child. There is so much energy inside me that I feel that I am about to burst. I start rambling on and on about pointless gossip and the latest news, but you harshly shush me, because apparently I am going to scare away the fish. With an attitude I deeply sigh and quiet down. I take in the scenery around me. All I can see is water for miles and miles, clean and refreshing. I don’t know how many times we have spent hours out here fishing, but his view of the trees and the water and all the best things about summer, they never get old, at least not to me. But in the end it’s not really about the lake, it’s about the time I get to spend with you, even if it’s a no talk zone. It’s just being in your presence and falling in love with your littlest movements. I can’t imagine another person I’d rather be out here with. I can’t imagine that with anyone else that I would fall for your superstition that chewing while fishing will bring you good luck, but I did fall for it. And now it’s just a tradition. Every time we come out here I try to fish and act like I enjoy this activity, but to be honest, it’s not my thing. But I do enjoy watching you, intently watching the bobber float in the water. Hearing you cuss the world when the fish steals your bait. I love watching your muscular arms reaching for the net and your stocky body leaning over the side of the boat and I especially love the temptation I get to push you over, but I know better. I love looking into your golden brown eyes when you catch a big one and it seems that your life is complete with that one small achievement. . I get lost in that wide grin you shed when you tell me that were going fishing today. Every time we go out on the lake you wear the same white ball cap and sunglasses. You wear you middle aged man tennis shoes even though you’re barely an adult yourself. And those khaki shorts that I always tell you are hideous, but the way you love them makes me love them. I don’t think I love fishing as much as I love how much you love fishing. Because I guess when you love someone, seeing them happy is the best thing in the world.