Inspired by the orange peel test.
***
I grew up with "I love you" as a foreign phrase. Perhaps it was the dutiful nature of my father or it was the quiet lover in my mother but hearing that phrase was an oddity. I'm more familiar with Lyall magically altering the old pots to shine anew or Hope staying up all night to mend work-torn clothes. Their actions spoke louder than words but could the measly 3 word phrase replace the actions?
"I've fixed your shoes." I love you
"Your roses are thriving again." I love you
"I made your favourite dinner." I love you
I soon realised, as I caught my parents quietly embracing in the kitchen in the dead of night, that it wasn't about replacing the actions with words. It was never about substituting a lack. It was an addition. Kind words are ingenuine without action. Action without loving words is bland and empty.
So when Sirius lays his head on my chest as we sleep, I wrap my arms around him a little tighter. I love you. When he shows me his new favourite album, I play it all day for him. I love you. When he cries and feels his heart clench in pain, I hold him for however long he needs me to. I love you. When he cuts his thumb-cutting vegetables, I hold his hand carefully and whisper "Episkey" to heal it. I love you.
After all that, I have begun to equate Sirius' name with love itself. To the point, I think words could not properly convey what he means to me. I sometimes think it's a futile effort to say the phrase and the praises. Because when I see him, his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his smile, I am at a loss for words. What word can translate my emotions, and what phrase can replace the actions my heart is willing to do for this man?
"Why are you looking at me like that Re?"
Because I don't know what to say to you, love. Because when you look at me for the slightest bit, my heart instantly yearns for your attention. Instantly wishing your gaze stayed longer for me. In those brief moments, I could opt for the quick "I love you" to encompass what I felt but even then it felt like an insult, an injustice, to my love for you.
So, instead of saying "I love you", I buy your favourite cookies every time I see them. I love you. I make your toast the way you like it. I love you. I make sure to water your beloved yet forgettable monster. I love you. I don't move a muscle even when my arm is falling asleep under you. I love you.
"Re, will you peel me an orange please?"
Your fingers were coated in paint but you were seated on that stool for hours so your stomach naturally growled for something. My mouth answered yes before I could make sense of what you asked.
Because, really, I love you too much to wait.
Looking at your pleading eyes now, when you asked me to peel an orange for you, I picked the plumpest orange in our fruit bowl. I love you. I poke the soft bottom and peel it perfectly. I love you. I put them neatly on a white plate along with a fork even though I know you'd rather be fed. I love you. When the inevitable pout comes, I pretend to roll my eyes annoyedly but my fingers carefully pick a carpel and hover it in front of your lips. I love you, I love you, I love you. And I silently pray that the orange carried my love to you. That it may fill your hunger and quench your thirst. That it may warm your heart from within. That it may love you as I have for so long.
I love you so much that if you asked me to peel 100 oranges, I'd peel a 1000.
