I simply loved it

 

Impetuousness.

That sudden and unchecked urgency to do or say something...yet not being able to pinpoint why.

The reason matters not, however. It is only that moment of expression. That moment of revitalisation, of an earthly enlightenment. That something has happened to you. Unexplained and unexplainably beautiful.

Your story - "Marriage" - reminds me of this impulse within me.

I fight with my sister - time after time after time.

It is only because I find her dirty cup lying in her room - with a dead corpse of a fly floating inside.

Or that she doesn't get her Chinese characters perfect after endless practice.

Or that she washes her grotty pencil case in the bath and leaves black stains all over it so that I have to clean it up.

Though only minces of matters, I tear the rooves down with my vocal cords.

- Why do you always expect me to clean up after you? Geez, fix your own mess, will you!

- Why'd you have to clean your stinking pencil case here? Couldn't you have done it in the laundry room??

- So.....what? You expect the next person who uses the bath to bathe in that black mess you've made? Audrey, please!! Have some common sense!

And I give her that clean-it-up-right-now-or-else look.

In response, she gives me that Flora, I-hate-you look for a few seconds...then picks up the brush and starts to scrub the bath.

Bit by bit.

Repeating that same motion that has completely no effect on the stains already left too long to be easily scrubbed off. Still hurt by my somewhat mindless outroar - sprouted seemingly from nowhere. The unstoppable chain of insulting comments that bulleted from my mouth.

I just stare.

Then, just as the disgust of that repeating action of her's - that scrubbing and rescrubbing of the damn bath that amounts to simply nothing boils up within me, something makes me want to tell her that she is beautiful.

Infinitely beautiful in my eyes.

And that I love her.

That I love her very much.

That she can go and I will scrub the bath.


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The impetuous streak in us is unexplanable at the time - and I love it for that.

I love it that there is that forceful urge within me.

By Drifting Lodestar

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