is it love yet?

let's not call it love
just yet
I tell my therapist
as he taps his pen 

against his bearded chin.
I mean we haven't
even had a fight yet.
we haven't crossed
swords
or spoke a single mean
word
to one another.
it can still be love,
he says.
not all relationships
need to be 

argumentative and chaotic.
I watch him write something
down
and underline it a few times.
did I ever tell you about
the time my
mother threw a plate
of spaghetti at my
father
because he was late
for dinner again,
and then he cut the phone
cord, so that she couldn't

call the police

after twisting her arm

and breaking it?

and even after all of that

she never left him.
yes, he says. you've

told me that story
a few dozen times.

now that was love,

i tell him. that's what you

call real love.