I’ve had the pleasure of being in love a few times. It is wonderful to be in that moment, even for a more realistic-than-romantic person like myself. That whole beginning, sappy, heart-bursting beginning to a newly-formed relationship. Just bliss and foreverness engraved in your heart. I started to think about my past loves — how and when the first “I love you” occurred.
And I call bullshit on the whole “don’t say it first” rule for women. But, whatever.
My first true love was HSS. Fell in love over the end-of-summer season of football, falling leaves… and long drives between Mentor-and-Ashtabula. We were lying on my mom’s porch together, and he did this finger drawing shapes and letters thing on my body. He wanted to say it, but nervously thought that once I realized what he was spelling, then that was when I would know and feel it too (I did). When he left to drive back home, I told him, “I love you, too!”
My ex-fiance told me he loved me a week after we met. No shit. He read a letter to me, and told me at the end. And everything in me felt the exact same way. There was no way to explain how there was just something instantaneous between us. I also moved in with him three weeks after we met. THREE FREAKING WEEKS. Sadly for me though, I still almost expect an immediate “feeling” when dating someone ever since him. Once you have felt and known that, you rarely waste more time than necessary on a potential “somebody.”
You would think I was in love with L. I wasn’t. I was perhaps head-over-heels crazily obsessed -in-like with him — and maybe it could have been on the road to something lovely, but unfortunately, I got the rug pulled out before that happened. And yet, I still hang on to stuff that ties memories to him. He was a fantastic person, and he reminded me how fun it was to find someone with so many commonalities. In fact, he raised the bar for my future dating habits.
SSD and I had a weird and broken relationship, as long-distance things usually work. While for the majority of our time spent together, we remained casual. Once we decided to make an actual “go” of a serious commitment, did my feelings actually turn warmer. That being said, when I fell for him, I fell hard — and it took me a while to move past those feelings after we broke up. You see, I never had the chance to say it to him in person (scared, much? Yes, terrified). But after he (once again) broke my heart, my friend told him… in an e-mail. Which was actually quite nasty in language and form, but she got the gist across.
Then there’s 10-SB (ten-second break-up). I first told him after my sister’s wedding. I was drunk, and he was passed out. Romantic, right? Obviously, he didn’t hear me. I told him again more than a month later after meeting his family for Thanksgiving. When I was drunk. Again. All awkward, like, “I have something to tell you!” He reciprocated, which I suppose in the end, is what matters. Meanwhile, a couple weeks go by and NOBODY SAYS IT AGAIN. Then, we go camping, and he asks me about “that thing I said.” I smart-ass retort that “I don’t have to say it all the time.” (Uh. Yes, you should, Mel. Idiot). I should have known from the start that this relationship would end in blatant disaster.
Do you have your own unique or awkward “I love you” story?
September 18th, 2008 at 12:56 pm
Um no. I’m pretty heartless.
September 18th, 2008 at 3:30 pm
It seems like whenever I’ve said it for the first time, my voice cracks like a twelve-year-old boy when I’m saying “I” or “Love.” I usually nail the “You” part dead-on, though.