I don’t know a lot of things about love. I can safely say I
have only been in love twice in my life. I have loved other men. I have loved
my friends and my family and people close to me. But I have only twice, given
my heart completely to being in love. And one of those two times, he was
incapable of loving me the way I loved him and that just about broke my heart.
Now I’m in love. Deeply, truly, in love. And I know that
because I have no desire for other men. I've never felt that. He satisfies me
in every way a boyfriend can. He challenges me intellectually, gets at least
80% of my references, he laughs when I laugh, admires me even when I have last
night’s make up all over my face, tucks me into bed when I've been drinking,
gets angry at what I’m angry at, can sing in such a way that I swoon,
understands the true devotion of theatre, and does crossword puzzles with my
dad. He brings coffee to work, holds me when I cry, pumps my gas when I’m too
tired, and works to make sure that I feel appreciate and loved every day. We
have nothing to fight about so we have taken to improving fake fights as an old
married couple. I have a future with him. I can’t say it’s forever, because who
could possibly know that for sure? But it’s certainly a future. We always call
it the long haul.
But I am here to tell you that those quotes you read about
people who are desperate for love is absolute horseshit.
Love is not patient. Love is being annoyed because they are
always late. To damn near everything. It is being annoyed when they won’t
finish and it’s been fucking forever. Love is tapping your foot while they put
make up on and getting frustrated when they don’t know what to wear because you
know they’ll look good anyway. It’s rolling your eyes in the grocery store when
they compare two products that are fucking IDENTICAL and it’s been ten minutes
that they have been reading the label. It’s getting to the front of the coffee
line and ordering and realize that they are still looking at the damn menu.
Like what the hell were you doing all that time we were in line?
Love is kind. No. It is not. It’s picking on each other for
the little stuff. Teasing them about the way their hair looks or an inside joke
of something you can both laugh at. It’s getting a good laugh at each other’s
expense and smooching them and saying “loooove you.” It’s knowing when you’re
fighting what buttons to press and which buttons you NEVER press. It is having
the ability to emotionally destroy your partner and then just not doing it.
It does not envy. Lies. I am completely in love and I trust
my partner implicitly. But when I see some skank putting her hands all over my
man, I get a little ghetto jealous. Loving someone in such a way that you get
jealous when people get a taste of what is yours, is totally normal.
It does not boast…Sure it does. It boasts about how lucky
you are every day that you found someone whose bullshit is worth putting up
with. It boasts on social media about the flowers they sent, about the cute
moment they shared, about their wedding. Nowadays it is all about boasting.
Love is not proud. It is too. I am proud of his
accomplishments. I feel joy for his triumphs and sadness for his failures. He
congratulates my wins and mourns my losses. He holds my hand because he is
proud that I am all his. It’s pride in all the things that they do, because
their victories are my victories and vice versa.
Here’s what I know about love. It isn't much, but it
certainly is something. It is all of those things. It’s about teasing and being
jealous and getting annoyed that they didn't do the dishes again or being
frustrated because they didn't understand your reverse psychology. It’s about
being late to the movies and playing rock paper scissors over what to watch on
Netflix. It’s about sleeping in their arms and waking up and kissing them even
though you haven’t brushed your teeth yet. It is impatient for the rest of your
life to begin. It is not kind. It is adoration and respect. Kind is a tawdry
word you use for stranger’s and random acts. Not for something as chemical and
romantic as love.
Love is a phenomenal, wonderful, amazing, slap in the face
and I couldn't ask for a better feeling.
