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Old Love
Every Friday we send our subscribers of The Morning Poet a romantic short story. Although you aren’t subscribed yet, we figured we would give you a free preview of what you can expect if you sign up.
Hope you enjoy!
Old Love
I have high standards for love. It isn’t for the same reasons as most.
All the other girls I know have protective dads, or older brothers. Some watch all the romantic movies or read romantic novels. They expect some dream guy to save them from getting hit by a car, and until that happens, they’re not going to settle.
That’s not why I have high standards.
I have high standards because of Martha and Bob.
They don’t sound so great from their names, I know, but their love is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. All it took was one encounter at my work, the diner, to see what love should be like.
It was a couple years ago when I met them. Bob and Martha were in their 80s and yet they were giggling like school girls when they walked in. Bob held the door open for Martha and curtsied and laughed.
They held hands and sat down on the same bench next to each other. Martha rested her head against his shoulder for a second and then leaned back up when I came to bring their menus.
“How are you folks doing today?” I asked.
Bob grabbed Martha’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I’m as good as could be.” He smiled at me in a way that let me know exactly why he was doing good.
The entire time they were there the love radiated from the two. When they talked, they looked at eachother like no one else was in the room. I don’t think I saw them stop smiling once. Aside from when they devoured their food. They had the appetites of a 16 year old boy who was going through puberty.
I came to bring the bill and Martha excused herself and went to the bathroom.
I had to ask if they were always like this. “Bob, do you mind if I ask? What’s the secret to a happy marriage? I have never seen a couple look as happy as you two do.”
Bob smiled as if he was waiting for me to ask.
“I love her,” he said.
“You got to give me more than that. I’m a hopeless romantic over here!” I said giggling with disappointment. The amount of times I heard men tell me they love me. I needed to hear more.
“People use the word love too easily nowadays. Love isn’t just liking someone’s company, or being infatuated by them.” Bob said. “I have loved Martha every day since the day I met her, through the good and the bad. I love her when she’s mad at me, I love her when she cries, and I love her when she makes me laugh.” Bob continued, but never made eye contact with me. He looked into the distance as if he was picturing her as he was talking.
“She knows how I like my coffee, she makes it for me every morning without asking. She knows what I'm thinking without me even saying a word and her heart is so full of compassion for everyone around her. I’m lucky to call Martha mine, and I let her know that every day.” Bob started to smile.
Martha came back and smiled and gave Bob a kiss on the cheek. I couldn’t even reply. I don’t think it would have mattered what words Bob said, he said them with such love that I knew what I wanted for myself.
“What are you two talking about?” Martha asked.
“Love. We were admiring you.” Bob smiled.
“Well who better to talk about love than Bob. He probably told you he’s lucky, right? Well I'm the lucky one. Don’t believe him.” Martha laughed, put her arm around Bob and gave him a squeeze.
They got up and started to walk away, holding hands again. Then Bob turned around.
“Don’t settle. There’s a Martha out there for everyone” Bob said.
They walked away and towards their car. I saw Bob open the door for Martha and helped her into the car.
That’s when I decided, that was my new benchmark. I want love like Bob & Martha’s.
Thanks for reading.
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