I have a love/hate relationship with love.
It was this tweet that made me think about what love is, why is it harder than peace to find and keep.
Which of course, lead me to thinking about my state of the union.
I’ve had 2.5 loves in my life. To some, that is a low number, to others that is 1.5 too many. But I consider myself lucky to have loved and lost, then to have never have loved at all.
The first man who told me he loved me, was someone I shouldn’t have been with the first place. I met him via an online site that I was solely on for ego-boosting/rebounding purposes. It turns out – he was good at telling stories. (Such as the grass he worked with, was NOT of the sod variety).
I found it funny that he told me loved me, because we hadn’t been dating for very long. I figure, it was just his way of trying to keep me strung along. He’s the same one that left me to sleep at the Detroit bus terminal, at 1am. If you’ve never been there, let’s just say it’s not a place you want to be at 1pm..much less trapped with some chick giving some dude head in the corner, doors locked to keep vagrants out with no place to go for another 7 hours. I probably should have taken a cab back into my country. Needless to say, it took me a while to step foot in the city of Detroit, and I took the words I love you to mean nothing to some people.
The second man who told me he loved me – loved me. I think part of him still does.
Our story was a fairy tale, and seemed destined for a fairy tale ending. We met, exchanged info – but we were both in school and long distance, so it faded with time. I went to close the email address 4 years later, and responded to a Christmas email he had sent– and the rest was history. Me and Jetblue became the best of friends, I fell in love with the city that never sleeps and started planning my future. I even had a job interview on Wall St. (WALL STREET!!).
I remember where I was when he first uttered those words to me and how it all came about. Our phone calls would end with a pause..for the place that would soon be replaced with those 8 letters. I was trying to tell him that I was in no rush to hear them, that I loved things exactly as they were. But he decided that it wasn’t enough to love the relationship. My heart was filled with so much joy, because I knew it to be true in that very moment and every time we spoke it afterwards.
Even when the relationship ended, love was never far from the surface – it had just changed to a different kind. He’ll always be the man I almost married (and would have had to fight US immigration for), and holds a special place in my heart.
The last man who told me he loved me, acted in the complete opposite way for most of our relationship.
He talked a good game, which I suppose what made me fall for him in the end, but very rarely would act on the feelings he said he had. I have never had a harder relationship in my adult dating life. The amount of times I tried to walk away, I lost of friend because of it, the tears shed, the prayers sent up – I kept going back because the story felt unfinished.
And there were plenty of reasons, and a few times, when no words needed to be said at all. They were the most powerful moments of all. When he told me how he felt, in code that only he and I would understand – it made everything worth it.
But in the end, you see the best and worst of people in life or death situations. And I saw the worst. And felt the worst. And despite all he had said and done – he then decided to say the words. Part of me wanted to believe that in his own way, that he did. Another part knows he said it as a way to convince himself of a reality that no longer existed. A last-ditch effort, to make up for the lack of the same for the previous 13 months. I cried because it was all I ever wanted from him and to give to him freely – but it was too late and couldn’t say it back because the love i had, was gone.
For those keeping score at home, 2 men who have told me they loved me, have gone on to do/say unspeakable, despicable things to me. And yet, I find myself still hopeful for the day where those words are said to me, I can say them back and trust them to be true – both in word and action.
I know that in each of those situations, I gave enough, sometimes more than i had to give. Even though things ended – I don’t regret any of them. 1 made me stronger, 1 gave me hope, and 1 gave me a greater joy and sense of purpose. I cannot be mad at any of that.
It would be really easy for me to never trust those words again. To be hateful, bitter, jaded. No one would fault me. Not even the next man who comes along in my life. God would understand how my heart could turn cold. But God also knows it’s not in me to live with anger or hurt. Once I release the pain, it’s gone. I am haunted by memories and occasional questions of what if – but who isn’t?
But somehow, someway.. I still believe in love. I know not any other way to be.
kbe.
what say you? is it really better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all? love that comes with strings – is that real? who defines what real love is – the giver or the receiver?
- what is love? (fourpageletter.wordpress.com)
