Posts Tagged ‘love’

December 15, 2008

The first time my boyfriend told me he loved me, he started the conversation with something to the effect of, “Have you ever been in love before?”, and then, “What do you think it means to be in love?”

He does this a lot. Asks me to explain my thoughts/thought process about something as opposed to just telling me. I both resent it and appreciate it: on the one hand, I feel like he never gives me “the benefit of the doubt”, or respects my opinion for its own sake, whether he belives it or not; on the other hand, he forces me to be articulate and put words to the mash of emotion and disjointed monologue that normally makes up my deep contemplation.

Anyway, I told him that, for starters, I had only maybe been in love once before. That relationship was with a much older man, and in hindsight it occurs to me that a lot of those feelings were probably based on some kind of delayed reaction to my grandfather’s passing, as he was the primary male role model in my life. While I think he was in love with me (he told me as much, and certainly treated me as though he cherished me), my moral unease with the whole situation prevented me from freely “loving” him back. But, it was the most I had ever felt for another person, and the first time I had become even remotely physical with a man (we did not have sex, however, but I doubt I would have been as comfortable with being touched by my current boyfriend were it not for the ‘foreplay’ I participated in with him).

What it did help me begin to recognize was the huge amount of emotion that it evoked in me. Normally, I’m pretty closed down and I rarely have any desire to spend time with other people – I’m not overly shy, and I do have a few friends, but I’m a loner, more or less. I have what I believe is a strong sense of decency and I try to be generous, but when it comes right down to it, I really can’t be bothered to put any energy into a ‘real’ relationship – I just don’t care. With my current boyfriend, perhaps in part because it was a ‘guilt-free’ relationship with prospects for the future, I fell hard.

He is the only person whose company I prefer over merely being alone – the only person whom I quite literally crave the presence of. He commands an enormous percentage of my attention and interest, easily being the sole subject occupying my thoughts at any given time. Being something of a germaphobe, I also tend to dislike being in close physical contact with virtually *all* people – except for him. No matter if he’s just stepped out of the shower or just spent an hour in the weight room, I find my attraction undeterred. He has the most wonderful smell about him – enhanced by a bit of Old Spice, but distinctly him, nonetheless, and it just makes my insides purr. He’s a big, powerful guy, and when we’re intimate he often ends up soaking wet in sweat, but still–often to the somewhat ironic amusement of my own subconscience — I cannot help but still want to lie close and rub my hands over his back as he rests. To me, he is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.


So, back to the “what is love to me” question. Well, whereas I tend not to care one way or the other about most people, the person I love has my complete attention. While I generally feel sympathy for other people’s problems, my attitude is always, “Aww, that’s a shame”, and I may not think about it with any real concern any further than that. On the other hand, this person whom I love – their happiness and well-being is of the utmost importance to me, and their mood or behavior towards me can leave me in tears at the drop of a hat, or bring me contentment as I have never known before. When he’s angry with me, even if I feel I am in the right or that he’s overreacting, its like I’m trying to inflate a punctured balloon – my anger will not hold a charge. I cannot just say “Fuck it” and walk away. The thought of something happening to him, of him dying, nearly kills me. You recall all that nonesense with the chiropractor – yes, part of that is my self-righteousness rearing its ugly head, but the reason I make such a stink about it with him personally is because I fear for his safety.

All in all, I want to be with him all the time, and I have eyes for no one else. My libido quite literally will not give anyone else the time of day.

That’s what love is to me.


Love and Marriage…

July 1, 2008

…don’t seem to go together quite like a horse and carriage, if you ask me.

I’ve never had a real positive outlook on marriage. My parents are not very happy – I remember it was back sometime around middle school that Mom began to openly complain to me about the insensitive, asinine things Dad was always doing. As I got older, we’d go out for coffee and our ‘heart-to-heart’ time was mostly Mom expressing her undying irritation with Dad. Its not that she was unvalidated in feeling like he not only wasn’t paying attention to her but was being unforgivably oblivious and irresponsible – he most certainly was – but what eventually bothered me was the fact that embedded in these complaints was a very stern message to me that “you should always assume men are going to be assholes” and “don’t ever get in a relationship with a man who doesn’t treat you ‘right’ “. And yet here she was, coming up on her 15th anniversary of putting up with just such bullshit.

I don’t deny that she has a point – I just wish that she would take her own advice.

I very much believe the most successful relationships are essentially “best friends w/ full benefits”. Two people, on equal terms with each other who prefer each other’s company to the company of others almost unconditionally. That’s not to say they’re ‘attached at the hip’, but the acutal act of being with each other is more important, more worthwhile, than the activity that you might be doing together.

Let me offer an example. My boyfriend is very involved in competitive weightlifting (and yes, off-topic, he is deliciously buff ^ ^) and I’m more of a casual group aerobics/TKB/ type person. I don’t really care a whole lot about weightlifting in and of itself, and would likely have never bothered to look into it in any depth if it wasn’t something he cared about. But nonetheless, its not a forced interest, or something I begrudgingly put up with for his sake. I’m interested in him, and by extention, I take an active interest in weightlifting. Its as simple as that. I want to know him, so I intend to learn as much about what he loves as I can. And even though I’m a twig by comparision and not much of a workout partner in the weight room, I am happy to be there with him, and I am sincere in wanting to workout together.

So really, why so much selfish rigidity, people? Why the insistance on one thing or another? Does it really matter what you’re doing so long as you can do it together? Is it so hard to care about what your partner likes instead of just your own?

Most couples seem to deem their partner as a weight chained to their leg or the steeel cuffs on their hands, holding them back and holding them down. They don’t see eye to eye, they don’t like being together for the simple sake of being together, and if there is any PDA, it always seems routine or forced.

I just hate that.

And I don’t understand it.

Maybe I just haven’t been in a relationship long enough to get bored, or tired, or so comfortable that I stop trying.

By if you don’t enjoy each other, what’s the point?