by Louise Yeiser
When you’re middle-aged and newly in love, the last thing you want to do is give a litany of your ailments, a sure-fire way to send a man screaming off into the sunset, while kicking up huge clouds of dust behind him, never to be seen, or heard from, again. To my dismay, that is exactly what I did. I told him that the arthritis in my right hand made it difficult to write that day. While I quickly repositioned my happy mask firmly back onto my face, he picked up my sore hand, raised it to his lips, carefully spread my fingers apart and softly kissed each one. That was the moment I knew. Soul mate.
Louise Yeiser is a creative nonfiction grad student at Carlow University in Pittsburgh and Ireland. She blogs here.