It's the weekend of love, and I've been thinking a lot about love; what exactly it is, and how my ideas have changed over the years.
Here's my love ramblings.
When I was younger, I was an "I love you" slut.
It's true.
I told all my little boyfriends that I loved them. And I had quite a few.
The first boy I ever told I loved was Ricky Clark in 6th grade.
He was my first real boyfriend, my first real kiss, and my first "I love you."
Did I actually love him?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. NO.
Though I will admit we did have an unusual relationship for 6th grade.
We weren't a weird couple who said we were boyfriend and girlfriend then never spoke and were super awkward.
We were partners on school projects. We hung out at recess. We talked on the phone most nights. He hung out with me and my friends. I hung out with him and his friends. We lived 23 houses apart and used to meet halfway to talk. We talked about getting married after we graduated. (Seriously). It was a fun and cute little first boyfriend. Back then I thought that if you got excited to see someone, it meant you loved them. If you wanted to hang around them for longer than a couple days, you were in love. Seems so silly now.
I told Tony Knapp I loved him in 7th grade.
I told Steve Harris I loved him in 8th grade.
I told myself I loved Joe Richardson in 9th grade.
I told David Burton I loved him in 10th grade.
At that point, I thought you just said I love to anyone you were dating. (I told you, sluuuttt).
In 11th grade, I fell in love with my best friend.
Actual love.
And I loved him for 3 years. And he loved me back.
In high school, the love was happy and innocent, and though young and immature, it was real. I really loved him.
Though in my first year of college, addiction would take that love and twist it and bend it and distort it and poison it until it broke permanently.
At that point, I thought that loving someone meant staying with them no matter what.
I thought love could fix anything.
That if I could just love him enough, I could heal him. I could end his addiction. I could get my best friend back.
If I kept loving him, his old self would return, and this mean, angry, controlling person would leave.
Through the last 8 months of our relationship, as I tried to love an addicted and abusive man, I learned a big lesson about love.
Love can't work miracles on someone who won't let it.
And sometimes, the most important person you need to love is yourself.
And sometimes, you need to leave.
Over the next little while I dated quite a few boys, but saved the "I love yous" for myself.
I had now seen what love might actually look like, but I had also seen what love could turn into.
And that scared me.
Soon I found myself falling in love with a new best friend, but I lied and told everyone I wasn't.
From what I knew, love burned you and broke you. It hurt you then left you. I didn't want to fall in love again.
It took a year of this sweet, selfless boy, loving me to change me.
I realized that love can work miracles, if you let it.
He made me believe in love again.
He made my first love look like a joke.
His love was honest and pure and steady. And after 3 months of dating and well over a year of being best friends, I finally returned the words.
And we've been loving ever since!!!
In the years that I have loved Nathan, I have learned more and more about what love is for me.
To me, love is being selfless.. as much as you can. Love is feeling around a dark closet for your shoes because you don't want to turn on the light and wake up your wife. Love is making things for dinner that you think are gross, but you know he will love. Love is bringing home frozen yogurt when you know she had a hard day at work. Love is doing the dishes when it's not your turn. Love is back scratches as you fall asleep. Love is having to be strong for the other person when you want to fall apart yourself. Love is both of you falling apart together. Love is watching One Direction music videos with your wife. Love is listening to him explain why The Beatles changed music for the millionth time. Love is buying the fat free ranch dressing. Love is being able to fart in front of each other. Love is being able to laugh together when everything else sucks. Love is the first sight of your first baby on the ultrasound machine. Love is the first kicks you feel, and the last one. Love is holding your sweet baby in the hospital room as your sweet husband holds you, and you know that even though life seems absolutely hopeless at the moment, you have him. And it will all be okay. I've learned more about love, my love for Nathan, my babies, and myself, in the past year than any other time in my life. Trials can rip you apart, but they teach you so much. And they've brought a whole new level to our love.
I love love.
And I love this silly guy for loving me.
Here's my love ramblings.
When I was younger, I was an "I love you" slut.
It's true.
I told all my little boyfriends that I loved them. And I had quite a few.
The first boy I ever told I loved was Ricky Clark in 6th grade.
He was my first real boyfriend, my first real kiss, and my first "I love you."
Did I actually love him?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. NO.
Though I will admit we did have an unusual relationship for 6th grade.
We weren't a weird couple who said we were boyfriend and girlfriend then never spoke and were super awkward.
We were partners on school projects. We hung out at recess. We talked on the phone most nights. He hung out with me and my friends. I hung out with him and his friends. We lived 23 houses apart and used to meet halfway to talk. We talked about getting married after we graduated. (Seriously). It was a fun and cute little first boyfriend. Back then I thought that if you got excited to see someone, it meant you loved them. If you wanted to hang around them for longer than a couple days, you were in love. Seems so silly now.
I told Tony Knapp I loved him in 7th grade.
I told Steve Harris I loved him in 8th grade.
I told myself I loved Joe Richardson in 9th grade.
I told David Burton I loved him in 10th grade.
At that point, I thought you just said I love to anyone you were dating. (I told you, sluuuttt).
In 11th grade, I fell in love with my best friend.
Actual love.
And I loved him for 3 years. And he loved me back.
In high school, the love was happy and innocent, and though young and immature, it was real. I really loved him.
Though in my first year of college, addiction would take that love and twist it and bend it and distort it and poison it until it broke permanently.
At that point, I thought that loving someone meant staying with them no matter what.
I thought love could fix anything.
That if I could just love him enough, I could heal him. I could end his addiction. I could get my best friend back.
If I kept loving him, his old self would return, and this mean, angry, controlling person would leave.
Through the last 8 months of our relationship, as I tried to love an addicted and abusive man, I learned a big lesson about love.
Love can't work miracles on someone who won't let it.
And sometimes, the most important person you need to love is yourself.
And sometimes, you need to leave.
Over the next little while I dated quite a few boys, but saved the "I love yous" for myself.
I had now seen what love might actually look like, but I had also seen what love could turn into.
And that scared me.
Soon I found myself falling in love with a new best friend, but I lied and told everyone I wasn't.
From what I knew, love burned you and broke you. It hurt you then left you. I didn't want to fall in love again.
It took a year of this sweet, selfless boy, loving me to change me.
I realized that love can work miracles, if you let it.
He made me believe in love again.
He made my first love look like a joke.
His love was honest and pure and steady. And after 3 months of dating and well over a year of being best friends, I finally returned the words.
And we've been loving ever since!!!
In the years that I have loved Nathan, I have learned more and more about what love is for me.
To me, love is being selfless.. as much as you can. Love is feeling around a dark closet for your shoes because you don't want to turn on the light and wake up your wife. Love is making things for dinner that you think are gross, but you know he will love. Love is bringing home frozen yogurt when you know she had a hard day at work. Love is doing the dishes when it's not your turn. Love is back scratches as you fall asleep. Love is having to be strong for the other person when you want to fall apart yourself. Love is both of you falling apart together. Love is watching One Direction music videos with your wife. Love is listening to him explain why The Beatles changed music for the millionth time. Love is buying the fat free ranch dressing. Love is being able to fart in front of each other. Love is being able to laugh together when everything else sucks. Love is the first sight of your first baby on the ultrasound machine. Love is the first kicks you feel, and the last one. Love is holding your sweet baby in the hospital room as your sweet husband holds you, and you know that even though life seems absolutely hopeless at the moment, you have him. And it will all be okay. I've learned more about love, my love for Nathan, my babies, and myself, in the past year than any other time in my life. Trials can rip you apart, but they teach you so much. And they've brought a whole new level to our love.
I love love.
And I love this silly guy for loving me.
I....wait for it... love this post. I feel like a lot of this describes my journey through learning what love is. :o)
ReplyDeleteand I love you for being my favorite roommate, defeating and surviving the Russians and watching a bajillion hours of OTH and eating cake bites. THAT is love right there people!
ReplyDelete