By Alison Bell Miller
When I asked him how many times he’d been in love I thought it was a trick question.
For me it’s two—
currently
or three, depending on whether or not we count the dead
or four if I meant it when I sighed it into my first boyfriend’s ear
when he touched me for the first time in 30 years and I think I did
but does it count if he lives in Berlin?
And if we’re including all loves, every love we’ve ever loved, I should count Rik and Kevin, too, those disastrous boyfriends of my lower 20s—
one, the first to make me pregnant
the other, the first to give me a ring
Oh, my first husband—
I can’t believe I forgot him, but actually I can.
And the women—
three of them, who never loved me back
and Jarrod, Joey, Brian, even sixth grade John Reeves
How many times did I say it and think that I meant it
and who’s to say that I didn’t even if they’re forgotten now?
It’s an impossible question—
love is such a silly thing to try to define
but when I ask him how many times he’s been in love
he says two.
—
Alison Bell Miller (she/her) is a writer and sex educator. She has published two chapbooks, Flowering, (adj.) by Weasel Press and blink by BarBar Press. Her work has also been published in various literary magazines including Hobart Pulp, Anti-Heroin Chic, Ariel Chart, and Cultural Daily. The owner of sex positive adult boutiques in Richmond, Virginia, she currently resides in San Diego.