Cupid
"How did you two meet?" The young man asked.
We get that question all the time. Smiling I just shrug and look to my soul mate, leaving it to him to explain. He's a storyteller at heart and so I would never think to rob him of his favorite pastime.
The truth of the matter is, it's been so long ago that I don't fully recall all of the details myself. So it is refreshing to hear him tell it with the same enthusiasm as when it first happened.
That's a problem with getting older, I find myself forgetting things more frequently. Xander is always there to patiently remind me of something I've forgotten, or to gently correct me if I get the details mixed up. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have him. He's my rock.
Xander looks at me, silently questioning if I would like to tell it. He always does that, bless him. And I always defer to him.
We are sitting on our favorite beach, just down the road from our tiny one bedroom house. We walk down every evening, thankful that despite our creaky bones, we still are able to. The aquamarine sea is rolling gently onto the pale sand. The blue sky is laced with a stunning mix of golden hues and pink on the edges of thepuffy clouds. This is my favorite time of the day, thirty minutes before sunset through to thirty minutes after. The time of day referred to as 'alaula' in Hawaiian, meaning 'sunset glow'.
No matter how long I live, I will never tire of watching the sun set into the ocean. Every night is a different painting, a myriad of colors created by the cosmos. A unique tapestry free for everyone to view at their pleasure. For me it's a peaceful time of reflection and, normally, of silence.
The term for someone like me, who is a lover of sunsets is 'opacarophile'.
But I digress. Shaking off my annoyance at the young couple's interfering questions, I sigh and politely look to them with a solemn smile.
The young honeymoon couple we've just met are sitting on their bright tropical themed beach towel bought at the tourist market at the end of the pier. Their skin is bright pink from where the sun has seared their flesh for hours on end. I think they said they were from Minnesota or someplace which, judging by their angry pink flesh, obviously doesn't have sun.
Xander is gearing up for the long haul. I can see the private smile of the young twenty - two year old man he was, some forty years ago. It warms my heart to see him so enthusiastic and still as handsome as he was back then. Although his shiny brown hair now has striking grey streaks at the temples.
He looks to me, to participate at least in the first line. The one he's said probably a thousand times over.
I nod, and acquiesce.
"It was all Cupid's doing." We say together. Then I laugh a genuine laugh as he smiles at me so brightly, his green eyes twinkling with love, as if it was the very first time we spoke those words.
God I love this man! He understands me so completely. He knows I'm no socialite, in fact I tend to border on being antisocial. Talking to strangers never really appealed to me. I prefer to keep mine and Xander's life private. But as they say, opposite's attract and in Xander's gregarious nature I have learned that it can be rewarding to meet people outside of our own tiny circle.
The couple looks at each other and laugh. Looking back to us, the man says skeptically, "Really, Cupid?"
He obviously has no sense of humor, I think to myself.
Xander nods, letting it sink in a minute. We both know the looks on their faces. We've seen it before. It's the look that says, "Watch out honey they're a bit senile."
Yeah, you go ahead and think that. I think smugly.
Interesting 💖💖