Kids compare their love to the stars. Citing celestial forces in their rooftop, late night, parents-can't-hear, stolen-beer vows. They compare the way their hands combine to constellations ever present in the night sky. I trashed this misconception in the back of a Chevrolet with the married man I was with that day when he compared our love to the moon and sun and how ours was a forbidden one. There wasn't a notion of poetry in his slurred words, just a man so scared of growing old he needed the comfort of a child, to soothe his soul. You and me, you and the person I am trying to be, don't need the sun or the moon or the stars in the sky, we just need the TV set on a Tuesday night. We fell in love in the daylight, in parks down the street. We fell for each other, not the universe, that before you, had tortured me. We don't need space suits to look into each other's eyes and know that it's here, right here, on this couch where we first made love that we call home. The kids can keep their zodiac signs and universe themed metaphors because our love can't be illustrated with astrological analogies. It's complicated and messy and hurtful and hard, but loving you is the best thing I’ve ever done, right here on earth.
-bcg (we fell in love in the daylight, so what happens when the sun goes down)
