On Loving & Forgiving

Their counsellor strictly instructed them after their last session to not see, or speak to each other for two weeks. After that, they were to see each other at a place and time they both agreed on, if they both decided it was worth forgetting their bitter past and throwing away all the anger and vile, and move on from there.

On that day that would dictate their future (whether as individuals or as a couple starting anew), she threw away all logic that ruled her life in all ways, for always. She was scared that maybe the two weeks they were given to think things over would not turn out to her favor. But she faced her fears. Dauntlessly, she stripped herself bare of all her defenses. She was vulnerable. But her willingness to give it another shot, her willingness to take a chance at a possibly lovelier "second time around" empowered her.

She started to well up --- out of overwhelming hope that he'd show up too, and fear that he might not. In the midst of a plethora of strangers, her eyes caught a familiar face whose hope and fear were also written all over. And in one fleeting, but poignant moment, they kissed. Words were unnecessary. That kiss, that embrace, that meaningful stare --- were all they needed to seal the seven years of mistakes and assure that this time they would try to make it work. Those were all they needed for either of them to know that they'd both been forgiven. Those were all they needed to validate their love --- one so true, it was well worth the risk they both were taking.

On that poetic Brooklyn Bridge, Miranda Hobbes and Steve Brady signified their forgiveness and love for each other. And reaffirmed their vow of etenity.

At that very moment, the person on the next row of the moviehouse decided to try to figure out which of the two was giving out a more sissy sob --- Marah or I. Steve later said he was positive it was I.

partners-in-sissiness Marah & Rye with enviable lovebirds Tim & Mike