live vs. love

I hang out with two women who love their lives. We could be downing margaritas, licking salt off our lips, and one will say, “I just love my life.” And the other repeats laughing, “I just love my life.” And we laugh and we sigh. Or we could be walking out of a movie in the late afternoon on a Wednesday, planning for brunch on a Saturday, glancing at a storm coming, and one will say, “I just love my life.” And the other repeats but louder, “No, I just love my life.”

How do you know if you love your life? Do you just know? Is it the same as loving a boy or a friend or a pair of shoes? I don’t know if I love my life. I live my life; there’s not much of a choice in that. And I love moments. I know I love moments. But my whole life?

So I will continue to laugh with these women and sigh with these women and admire these women, and maybe one day after their chorus of “I just love my life,” I will be able to share their contentment.