This is Us

by Suzanne Aubin

This is us dancing to CBC Blue Note, you holding me so I don’t fall, us making a soufflé together, me strumming the guitar for you, us napping outside after cycling, you bringing me wine in the shower and leaving a note on my pillow.

This is us playing backgammon on the picnic blanket, you guiding me to the sunny spots on the Ferry and me bringing you Handel; it is us laying down under your weeping willow and you talking about your squirrels; you showing me the owl in the night and caressing me in the hot tub. It is us hitting the ball together and you taking out my Christmas tree, you bringing me baskets of greens and me wearing a red dress.

This is me wanting to go away to write; this is you, torn by my absence.

This is me wanting every moment to be good; you, knowing that it will hurt. This is the brave new us starting again and making different mistakes than before.

This, I hope, is us locking fingers, accepting to come and go and always be there, knowing that some times are better alone and all the others spent together are but a gift from the universe that we chose to open at the same time.

During our recent Love Month, a few people contributed stories and reflections that were far too good to keep hidden in a Comments section. The piece above is one of them. A native of Québec City, Suzanne Aubin lived around the world before settling in British Columbia where she teaches languages, does translations and writes in her spare time. She has run a monthly column in a national aviation newspaper and published free-lance articles in Okanagan Life, a BC magazine. Her latest publications include BluePrint Review, Flash Flooding, Salomé Magazine, and Flash Flood Fiction.