Tiny Love Stories: ‘I left every room she entered’
Silent empathy
You were a businessman who sat next to me on an airplane. I was a 19 year old who had an abortion three days earlier. I asked a flight attendant for a blanket, but she said they didn’t have it. As my lip trembled at the news, you took off your suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. I cried into my sleeves and found a strange comfort in the ripe scent of your cologne. We didn’t talk during the short flight, but for those 60 minutes I felt held back. —Rachel Young
I loved her all along
I was 15 and not having “good issues” in New York, so my mom moved us back to Puerto Rico. I was hanging out with local teens in San Juan when a girl walked up to us and offered us fresh fruit. I looked at her like love at first sight was real. She looked me up and down without smiling. I was a lesbian. She was straight, devout Catholic and had a boyfriend. It wasn’t until decades later, after I joined the military and she divorced, that our love blossomed. It was not a minute too early. — Vic Alvarez
‘Where our palms meet’
Four-year-old me doesn’t want to stand next to Satoru at this busy intersection in Victoria, BC. Since my parents moved from Tokyo, this grandpa, my favorite Ojiichan, seems different. So I’m creeping away little by little. But then my right foot falls on the zebra crossing; I come dangerously close to oncoming traffic. Ojiichan’s hand quickly envelops mine. He doesn’t pull, scream or even pant. He just hangs on. Safe again, I look up. Ojiichan returns a soft glance through his black-rimmed glasses. And soon there is a liquid tingle – love, as I now know it – where our palms meet. — Rumi Tsuchihashi
Let her carry my pain
I didn’t speak to my sister for four months when she got her first boyfriend at fifteen. We lived in the same house in Sydney, Australia, but I left every room she entered. I hadn’t had a boyfriend yet, although I was three years older. I was so consumed with my own ego and shame that I didn’t realize I was letting my little sister carry my pain. She took it stoically and immediately forgave me when I invited her back into my life. A decade later, she remains my rock. I’m so sorry, Kate. I love you. — Grace Bird