What does it mean to be loved?

For years a feigned understanding,

until a clear summer night in early August.

I was bored. I was hungry. 

I really wanted garlic bread.

She really wanted garlic bread.

So I made some frozen garlic bread

and pasta with sauce that was far too acidic

and we sat on the driveway

just us

the neighborhood cats 

and the streetlights above,

until we moved into the night-

just two weary souls and the sky.

And we laid on the pavement 

watching the stars 

and the stars watched us

make easy conversion about nothing at all

and the perseids waved a hello as they passed by 

to two tired teenagers 

who understood they were loved.