WE SPENT THE AFTERNOON BUILDING"FOR SERVICE," HE SAID. NEW PIECES, NEW PLACES, NEW PARTSTO BE PUT HERE AND THERE AND TAKEN FOR GRANTED.BUT IT FELT GOOD, AND I TOLD HIM THAT.HE RESTED A PLANK ON HIS SHOULDERLIKE A BAYONET. AND I NEARLY LAUGHED, THINKING,IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO FALL IN LOVEWITH A SOLDIER ON THE OTHER SIDE?

HE RESTED A PLANK ON HIS SHOULDERLIKE A BAYONET. AND I NEARLY LAUGHED, THINKING,IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO FALL IN LOVEWITH A SOLDIER ON THE OTHER SIDE?

When I say ‘I love you’ I don’t mean that I love what being with you does for my career, or I love how often you’re willing to shag. I mean I love you. I love making you laugh, and seeing how you react to things, and getting to know the little things about you. I love who I am with you, and I’m trusting you not to hurt me.

Writing is a tie - however tenuous - to him.

He bent, pressing his mouth to my knuckles, eyes closed. It felt like worship.

Is this what it feels like to fall in love With a soldier on the other side?

I'd somehow always expected love to be primarily a mental state, so I still felt unaccustomed to the physical manifestation of my feelings for her: the way my stomach would grow tight, the way my chest would press in, my heart pounding blood hard and fast through my arteries.

He rested a plank on his shoulder like a bayonet. and I nearly laughed, thinking, is that what it feels like to fall in love with a soldier on the other side?