Love Is a Four Letter Word


By Stefanie Marshall

Sometimes I think about what it’s going to be like when I fall in love again. 

I imagine days in the park, holding hands, and eating foods out of that picnic basket I bought for us.

He’ll pick flowers, and I’ll put them in my hair. We’ll take photos of each other and together. It’ll all feel very much like a Cameron Crowe movie.

There will be laughter. Side splitting laughter that will end in me crying and him wiping the tears from my cheeks. And we will read to each other.

He’ll know all the places to touch me that make me shiver and all the places that make me burn up from the inside out.

We’ll take bubble baths together, even though the tub is too small.

One day, I’ll look at him and say “Let’s go to the beach.” And we just will. We will hop in the car, roll the windows down, scream along to songs, and kiss at red lights and stop signs.

Sometimes, he’ll catch me crying at old movies, but he won’t make fun of me.

Every night when we fall asleep wrapped up in each other so closely you can’t tell whose arms and legs are whose, he will tell me how beautiful I am.

And every night, I will tell him how much I love his lips and his heart and his arms and his soul.

Someday, I will fall in love again.

writer photo

Stefanie Marshall

Stefanie is a writer and a hopeless romantic. Probably both because of the other. She likes her whiskey neat and her men bearded. Mostly, she's told she's the good kind of terrifying.

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