“Is that a real fire?”
“No, it’s a gas log”
“It’s pretty realistic, though”
Nancy and I are sitting on a sofa, in front of a fire, at a state park inn in northern Indiana. I just finished writing a post over at 300wordsaday.com. It will go up in the morning. Nancy is journalling. We are enjoying the fire. And being together.
Two people just walked out, leaving for the evening. They didn’t see us. They just talked about the fire.
It is a real fire. There is real warmth. It isn’t a wood fire, but it is a real fire.
These are real words. There is real truth. They aren’t “pen and ink and paper” words” but they are real words.
I’m writing, in part, to real friends. There is real relationship. They aren’t “spend a lot of time in the same geography” friends, but they are really change my life friends.
Nancy and I are enjoying being together. We aren’t playing table games or watching a movie or whatever it is you are supposed to do to prove that you are comfortably and caringly married after nearly 27 years. But it is a real marriage, not just realistic.
But the two people deciding quickly about the reality of the fire wouldn’t know any of this.