And No, I Am Not A Stalker

There is a lesbian couple that lives across the street. How do I know they are lesbians and not just a couple of heterosexual females living together? Because they are in love, and when you see two people in love, they don't have to tell you in order for you to know.
They are an affectionate, caring couple, walking down the street with their arms around each other, heads tilted back in a laugh once in a while, hugging in the driveway before one gets into her car, sitting cross-legged in the front yard while deep in conversation.
Their home looks warm and inviting. They have three dogs that curiously stick their heads out of a window in the house to watch cars, squirrels, people in the yards and street below.
Their living room is always glowing. There is a giant painting on the wall above a bright red couch. Occasionally you can see feet resting on the arm of the seat, or the smaller dog of the three stretched out across the top.
Snowflakes and twinkle lights hang in the windows, and even though the holidays have come and gone, the celebratory decor makes their home seem all the more welcoming.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone ever peers into the windows of D's home and thinks, "That couple there, they are really in love."


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