The Point of It

A few days ago, I talked to my father. I was telling him a story about Good Man and I said, “He doesn’t only love me, he—”

“He likes you,” Dad said.

“Yes! You understand!”

A lot of couples I encounter or see don’t seem to like each other much, even if they love each other. I have known and worked with women who couldn’t say one nice thing about their husbands or boyfriends. Whine, whine, bitch, bitch. Why stick with him when you obviously don’t like him? “But I love him.”


“Oh, Amanda,” Dad said, “I am so happy for you. I am so happy you’re marrying someone you like, you likes you, and that you love, who loves you.”


Last week, Good Man had a terrible headache while he was at school. I offered to pick him up so he wouldn’t have to deal with the bus. He asked me to bring him something hot—coffee or tea—in his mug.

A mile away from his school, I realized I’d forgotten the hot drink. As soon as he opened up the car door I said, “I forgot your drink. I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK.”

We stopped for gas ($1.95/gallon!) and while the gas was pumping, I ran inside. Good Man looked at my quizzically from the truck, but I didn’t tell him what I was doing.

I came back to the truck and handed him some coffee with amaretto cream in it. “I’m sorry I forgot your coffee. If you had forgotten, I would’ve said, ‘One thing, I asked you to do one thing!’ But you weren’t mad at all. Thank you.”

Good Man laughed, nodded, and sipped his coffee. He closed his eyes, leaned back against the seat. “사랑해.” I love you.

“나도.” I love you, too.