I thought they was one and the same thing. When I was younger, I did. And Lanie dancing in her underwear and dancing for just me, and music playing so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. And I loved her though she was crazy as a bag full of frogs and I wanted her all the time. And I thought love and wanting her was the same thing.
She said she didn’t think marriage was the way to be, but if ever she changed her mind then it’d be me she’d marry. She said if that wasn’t enough then she didn’t know cos it was all she got.
‘I mean how do you?’ she said. ‘Really know, I mean. Out of all the people in the whole world, how do you know?’
I shrugged and said I just did. I said that it was like watching her dancing and all thoughts taken from me by the music playing so loud, and still there was the wanting her, wanting to touch her to see she was real and wanting to kiss her and fuck her, but not wanting to stop the dancing cos I could see how happy she was when she was dancing.
It don’t make sense when I say it now, but it made sense then. And she maybe understood and when she was breathless from the dancing she kissed me and let my hands touch her in all the secret places and she said she loved me more than chicken pie, and she said fuck, but she really loved chicken pie.
It was enough, at first, me and Lanie sharing the same apartment, and sharing everything. And me and Lanie kissing all the time, and touching, and discovering new stuff and finding some stuff familiar. And I didn’t need to tell her, but I did anyways, how I ached for her and that was love and sex and they was the same thing in my head.
And though we didn’t marry when we should’ve, we had plans and we made a down-payment on a house and she said she’d come off the pill one day soon and she looked into my eyes when she said it just to see if I was scared, which I wasn’t.
Then suddenly there was this thing. And it was between us. It was just a thing and it was nothing and something. A girl at work is what it was and I don’t know but we was horsing around this one time and I said as how I was with Lanie and she said that was ok and we did it anyway. It was a one-time thing and it wasn’t love and it was just wanting. And I did, I wanted her. Jesus but I did. And wanting and love they ain’t the same thing and I could see that then.
Lanie found out and I told her it was nothing. I said it was just sex and wanting and nothing to do with love. And in my head I could hear that I wasn’t making sense and Lanie just looked at me all sad and like I’d broken something of hers.
Time is a healer; they say that, but it’s been years now and I still don’t see Lanie dancing in her underwear no more and the music is never so loud as it once was and so I can always hear myself thinking. And I tell Lanie I love her, over and over I tell her, and she smiles and she kisses me soft as secrets and says that’s real sweet, but she don’t say she loves me back like she used to.
Patricia Ann McNair 
I thought they was one and the same thing. When I was younger, I did. And Lanie dancing in her underwear and dancing for just me, and music playing so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. And I loved her though she was crazy as a bag full of frogs and I wanted her all the time. And I thought love and wanting her was the same thing.
She said she didn’t think marriage was the way to be, but if ever she changed her mind then it’d be me she’d marry. She said if that wasn’t enough then she didn’t know cos it was all she got.
‘I mean how do you?’ she said. ‘Really know, I mean. Out of all the people in the whole world, how do you know?’
I shrugged and said I just did. I said that it was like watching her dancing and all thoughts taken from me by the music playing so loud, and still there was the wanting her, wanting to touch her to see she was real and wanting to kiss her and fuck her, but not wanting to stop the dancing cos I could see how happy she was when she was dancing.
It don’t make sense when I say it now, but it made sense then. And she maybe understood and when she was breathless from the dancing she kissed me and let my hands touch her in all the secret places and she said she loved me more than chicken pie, and she said fuck, but she really loved chicken pie.
It was enough, at first, me and Lanie sharing the same apartment, and sharing everything. And me and Lanie kissing all the time, and touching, and discovering new stuff and finding some stuff familiar. And I didn’t need to tell her, but I did anyways, how I ached for her and that was love and sex and they was the same thing in my head.
And though we didn’t marry when we should’ve, we had plans and we made a down-payment on a house and she said she’d come off the pill one day soon and she looked into my eyes when she said it just to see if I was scared, which I wasn’t.
Then suddenly there was this thing. And it was between us. It was just a thing and it was nothing and something. A girl at work is what it was and I don’t know but we was horsing around this one time and I said as how I was with Lanie and she said that was ok and we did it anyway. It was a one-time thing and it wasn’t love and it was just wanting. And I did, I wanted her. Jesus but I did. And wanting and love they ain’t the same thing and I could see that then.
Lanie found out and I told her it was nothing. I said it was just sex and wanting and nothing to do with love. And in my head I could hear that I wasn’t making sense and Lanie just looked at me all sad and like I’d broken something of hers.
Time is a healer; they say that, but it’s been years now and I still don’t see Lanie dancing in her underwear no more and the music is never so loud as it once was and so I can always hear myself thinking. And I tell Lanie I love her, over and over I tell her, and she smiles and she kisses me soft as secrets and says that’s real sweet, but she don’t say she loves me back like she used to.