I looked at my brother while he drove. Joseph was waist deep in an anti-woman rant. “I don’t understand women and they don’t understand me.”
“Maybe that’s because you’ve never really been in love with a woman.”
“You’re right. And that decision alone has saved me hours of sitting around looking and feeling like you do right now.”
“Not gonna argue with your logic,” I said, but still felt the urge to defend love; the love I have with her.
“Because you can’t. You were at college, but I had a front row seat to watch all the ridiculous changes Alexis took Abe through.”
Abe is our brother Abraham and Alexis is his wife, but while they were dating, she was something else. “Here again, not gonna argue with you, baby boy.”
“’Cause here again, you can’t,” Joseph said and pointed at me.
“You just keep your eyes on the road.”
“I don’t understand why a woman in love does the things she does. Why so many equate love with orgasms. Why they call you on the telephone and say, ‘I didn’t want anything’. Then why did you call!” he shouted.
“You’re asking the wrong man today.” But I had a feeling I did know. Because when you are in love, everything is about love. The call, the orgasms, the smiles; it’s all about the one you’re with and you wanting more of it and them. Like I wanted Amara.
“And maybe you can tell me why hearing those three words mean so much.”
Even though I knew this too, I asked, “What three words?”
“I love you.”
“Like I said, you’re asking the wrong man today.” They mean so much because she needs her senses to experience it. You have to say it so she can hear it; show her so she can feel it in her heart. All of it, I was willing to give her.
“Three words that never were true,” he continued. “Words are meaningless. Anyone can invoke the words without meaning them,” he said and I was glad when he parked his new car in the driveway of the house we grew up in because when I said those words to Amara, they were as true as anything I’d ever said. I was true to her.