Don’t tell me. Show me.
True in life, true in story telling. Think about it. When someone tells you ‘I love you’, it warms your heart. I won’t deny that. But when that person brings you your favorite flowers ‘just because’, or gives you a shoulder massage when you’re sitting at your keyboard and you’ve been there for hours, hunched over, trying to get those darn words to flow just right… it means more, somehow. It feels more… real. Alive. Personal. Because they’re thinking about you, specifically. They’re considering ways to make you happy, not just saying society approved phrases to gain your approval.
Have I done it? Well, I’m married, so of course I have. But there are those times when I take my husband’s face between my hands, stare deeply into his eyes and say ‘No, I mean I really love you.’ And he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they aren’t just three words I’m saying to my spouse, but words I’m spilling from my soul.
It’s much like writing:
‘He kissed me and it felt good.’
‘He leaned over me, his breath tickling my lips before his mouth touched mine. Gentle at first, as first kisses are, it deepened as he pulled me closer. My breath caught for a moment, then I melted toward him…’
Or, y’know, something like that. 😀 It’s definitely not my best phraseology, but it’s been a long day.