Love Your Life(110)

“This is incredible.” Matt is leafing through incredulously. “Look, a contents page. ‘Food…Traditions…Wildlife…National Dress…’?”

“You’ve got one too,” I say, laughing. “?‘Culture…Technology…Habitat…History…’?”

“Ha!” Matt barks with laughter. “?‘The national dress of Ava-land may appear disconcerting at first. Do not be alarmed. Your eye will adjust in time to the myriad of colors and styles.’?”

“What?” I say, in mock outrage. “OK, I’m finding yours.” I flick to the right page and read aloud. “?‘National dress of Matt-land. This consists of trousers worn with a blue shirt. No other color is acceptable. Attempts to extend the range of national dress have, thus far, failed.’?” I start laughing. “That is so true. That is so, so true!”

“It is not!” Matt looks down at his blue shirt. “Blue’s a good color,” he says defensively.

    “?‘Matt-land hovers around subzero temperatures,’?” I read out. “?‘Travelers are advised to dress accordingly.’?”

“?‘Venturers to Ava-land must prepare for the strange musical customs of this nation,’?” he rejoins. “?‘Consider earplugs.’?”

“What a nerve!” I say indignantly. “Oh, here’s languages. ‘Commonly spoken languages in Matt-land include English, football, and logic.’?”

“?‘The languages of Ava-land include English, aromatherapy, and Harold,’?” Matt replies. “Hey, I speak Harold too.”

“?‘You cannot visit Matt-land without sampling ice cream.’?”

“Snap!” says Matt, nodding at his binder. “?‘You cannot visit Ava-land without sampling ice cream.’?”

We smile at each other, then I flip randomly to another section.

“?‘Wisdom naturally permeates Matt-land, as well as a strong, valuable seam: the ability to listen.’ Yes.” I nod, feeling a fresh swell of affection for Matt. “Yes, that’s true. You do listen.”

“?‘Ava-land is transformative for the weary of soul,’?” reads out Matt. “?‘The fresh, optimistic air is a known tonic, although it can cause dizziness for those unaccustomed to its potency.’?” Matt shoots me a little grin. “You made me dizzy. Still do.”

“?‘Rare volcanic eruptions of spontaneity and playfulness give Matt-land an exciting prospect that belies its calm appearance,’?” I read. “So true!”

“?‘The altitudes and extremes of Ava-land can be challenging, but travelers will find vistas and delights well worth their efforts.’?” Matt meets my eyes. “Vistas,” he repeats slowly. “And delights. That’s very well put.”

    I have a feeling I know what he means by vistas. And delights. In fact, his gaze is so intent, I feel a tad flustered and look down again.

“Oh, look, there’s a conclusion,” I say as I turn to the last page. “?‘In Matt-land you find a solid landscape of truth, integrity, and honor. Matt-land is a rare find’?”—I break off, my throat lumpy, because this is so true. “?‘Matt-land is a rare find for the discerning traveler disappointed by other, shallower terrains and will reward perseverance beyond measure.’?”

“Wow,” says Matt, looking a bit shaken. “Well, this is what yours says…” He flips to the end of his binder and starts reading. “?‘Ava-land is a Shangri-La. A realm of magic, hope, imagination, and, above all, love. It is a place…’?” He hesitates, his voice scratchy. “?‘It is a place few want to leave.’?”

My eyes are suddenly hot, because who wrote that? Matt looks up at me, his face burning with love.

“I couldn’t have put that better myself,” he says quietly.

“Same,” I say, feeling flustered. “I mean…what yours said about you. Same.”

“No author name, I notice.” Matt jerks his head at his binder.

“It’s all of them.”

“Bastards.” He grins. “They’re all going on the chart.”

“Are they trying to send us a message, do you think?” I say, and I’m trying to sound jokey, but my eyes are hot again. Because…is this real? Really real?

    “Yes,” says Matt, as though reading my mind, and he reaches his hand across the table to grasp mine.

I let him hold it for a few moments, feeling some of the tension in my body starting to sag away. But then I twist my fingers free. Because if this is going to have any chance, I have to be honest. We both have to be.

“Matt…I’m nervous,” I say, staring at the table. “I don’t want to be. But I am.”

“Of course,” says Matt gravely. “Me too. But we’ll go slowly.”

“Carefully.” I nod. “No rushing.”

“Nothing impulsive,” Matt agrees.

“We’ll realize we have differences. And we’ll work around that.” I look at him earnestly. “We’ll respect each other. I can’t love everything about your life, and you can’t love everything about my life. And…you know. That’s fine.”