It was three days into our vacation. The day before we rented a jeep and drove around the island exploring little out of the way places. Not that it was a strenuous day by any stretch of the imagination, but we nonetheless decided to spend the next day lounging on the beach in true island fashion. We found a pair of beach chairs and settled in for a day of soaking up the sun, drinking cocktails, and enjoying each others company - something of which we couldn't get enough.
Up until this point we had expressed our feelings for each other in many ways but neither of us using a certain three word expression. We spoke in euphemisms about how we felt toward each other, dancing around those key words. Perhaps there was the sense that to do so would break some spell under which we had been enjoying up until then or maybe the time just hadn't been right.
Whatever hesitation there was melted away that day under the St. Martin sun. It wasn't as if it was something I planned, or even thought about, but at that moment I opened my mouth and the words “I love you” flowed out with such ease that it seemed they had been waiting for this moment since September 27, or even since June 1989. Even before the words had completely left my lips Karen was saying them right back to me. As she did, her eyes gained a new sparkle and slightly tearful glaze. She looked more beautiful at that moment than I'd ever seen her. We kissed and hugged unlike we had in the months prior; there was a new passion and energy flowing between us. It was one of those transformational moments I thought only existed in works of fiction.
However, we were also a little concerned. We were worried that we might find ourselves overusing the phrase, saying “I love you” to the point it became rote, diminishing its importance and underlying feeling it represents. In fact we spoke about not wanting to just say “I love you” as a matter of course as we had seen happen in other relationships. We even made a tacit agreement not to say it too often, an agreement that lasted slightly longer than the frozen strawberry daiquiri Karen was sipping at the time made it.
It was, on the contrary, as if the floodgates had been opened. We found ourselves positively gushing it to each other. So much so that the following day, while having a drink at a beach side bar on Anguilla, the bartender asked if we were newlyweds, commenting that she'd only seen people gush and fawn over each other the way we were when they're on their honeymoon. Who could have imagined that the utterance of three words could have such a magical affect. Whatever the reason, we spent the rest of the vacation in a world populated by just the two of us, unaware and unconcerned about whatever happened around us.
The days that followed were unlike any I'd ever experienced until then. We never left each others presence. From waking in the morning to lying down to sleep in the night, we spent nearly every minute together. Unable to keep our hands off each other, we similarly couldn't keep from telling each other how we felt, saying over and over again "I love you" just as we had agreed not to do.
Days and months later we kept up the barrage of “I love you.” Despite this, there was nothing diluted from the words even after the dozens, if not hundreds, of times we said it to each other. It was natural. It felt right. It was what we were feeling and not merely words spoken. In short, it was not overused and meant as much to me when she said it on November 16 as it did when she said it on February 19. Today I keep a Post-It in my wallet that Karen left in my office that reads simply: “Never forget how much I love love love you :)” That little 3M plastic flag means more to me than anything else I keep in my wallet and reminds me each and every day of the unconditional love she and I shared.
