Loving right

Once, when I was in the early stages of a relationship, the part where you stay up late and talk about all the things that you'd never say without the cover of darkness, I was asked what I was afraid of. Without hesitation, I answered.

"Not loving right."

Let's be honest, I probably asked him first in hopes that he would ask me so that I could say exactly that just to make sure I got to unveil that little bit of crazy in a safe, dark room. That's a chick for ya.

My father had this amazing way of showing my mother he cared in exactly the way she wanted to see it: presents. For the nearly 30 years that he was alive and married to her, he got her a present every month on the day that they were wed. Not too shabby, right? I won't regale you here with the tales of how he made it happen, but it's pretty impressive.

Much later, I learned about Gary Chapman's love languages. Those would be: words of affirmation; quality time; receiving gifts; acts of service; and physical touch. I'm not sure if I think it's a bullshit theory or not, but it gives validity to this notion of crazy that I've been carrying around for forever, so I'm gonna go with it for now. I'll also unveil that mine is words of affirmation. Just in case you, dear reader, later fall in love with me and are searching for the best way to make it clear.

It only takes a few moments for me to care deeply, but I have rarely let myself take the real plunge. Here's the tricky thing about love--and I'm not telling you this because it's Valentine's Day--it's that the people you love don't always hear what you're telling them. I can stand on rooftops or mountain tops, pick your cliche, and scream and yell until I'm red in the face, or blue in the face, or whatever color people turn when they're trying really damn hard (again with the cliches). But sometimes they can't hear you. You can slave over meals and kiss him for no reason at all and search for moments to look him in the eye and smile and buy lingerie and curl your hair. And even put on lipstick. Did I mention kissing him for no reason at all?

But if that's not what they're looking for, they don't see it. I feel this weight to make it known to the people that I love that there's this spot in my heart that will never be filled with anything but the way that they make me feel, a smile that I don't let anyone else see. And then there's the conflicting pressure from reality that there's no way I can ever make it clear enough.

It's like a tug-of-war that we're all destined to lose. But I'll be damned if I'm not going down without a fight.