Forgive me for writing a fluffy piece, but it’s cheesy romantic comedy Hallmark movie season and I’m feeling inspired to share some of my observations and experiences about love with you.
I’ve been in lust, in love, and even, in the darkest of times, in desperation trying to manifest love where there was none. Love, if you’ve experienced it, no matter how brief or how extended, it’s a high like no other. Even after years of marriage, you can still have those moments where you look at them and get those beginning butterflies. That’s the person I fell in love with, you’ll think. Some people have never experienced love, not from family or friends, so they create barriers for the allowance of giving or receiving love. I never heard “I love you” from family until I was 20 and we lost my dad.
Being in lust means their a great kisser, good in bed (or excellent, which is hard to come by) and you just hang out. There’s a disconnect between when the two of you are alone in bed and out in public with others. Trust me, this doesn’t mean you need to skip over this “friends with benefits” type of situation. I’ve had some amicable ones, but I’ve also found out that they had “friends with benefits” all over the place. Eeww. But it’s fun in your 20’s or even your early 30’s, but that can’t be your only connection to someone. You will find yourself inevitably falling for someone who will never fall for you and that cold side of the bed hurts. Remember, hurt people hurt people.
Being in desperation is pretty self-explanatory, but telling a guy you love him because he gives you great orgasms and always stays the night is not exactly playing the game of love well. So I shelved nice guys, assholes, and felons for a long-time. I acquired a great friend with benefits who, when I was pissed at him, remembered that I had mentioned liking My So-Called Life (if you don’t know what that is, I’m not surprised, but look it up to better understand the 90’s teen) from before and bought me the boxed set as an apology. Probably one of the most thoughtful gifts ever. We had tons of chemistry, tons of sex, and tons of watching movies. We didn’t always have to have sex, sometimes it was movie night.
Onto love. How do you know if you’re in love and if this love stands a chance for at least six months? You don’t, moron. Unless you go see this psychic that I went to see and she tells you everything you want to know. And it’s crazy spot-on. It’s almost creepy. But, aside from that, you don’t know when your love will come to an end. It may be forever. It may be 10 days. People leave. People die. People can do anything to hurt you. It’s a risk worth an amazing reward.
One way to know that you’re in love with the person is all of that cheesy stuff, maybe you’re awkward around them, you can’t stop thinking about them, and/or waiting for that next date, phone call (yes, it’s still very romantic to actually call someone), or even little text message. Those simple gestures allow you to know that they’re as interested in you as you are in them.
You want to share every bit of yourself with them. Your truths, mistakes, and biggest fuck-ups. I’m one of those people who had a few first dates and that was it. Just crazy truth after truth after truth. I’ve made mistakes, but am a generally an honest person so I would put it all out there in the first date. I don’t recommend it, but sometimes it works if you just want to cut through all the bullshit.
The thought of losing them, just the tiniest thought, feels like you’re dying. I grieved my divorce from an abusive asshole when he left me and it literally does feel like you’re heart is being pulled out via your stomach.
You dance in the kitchen. I’m serious. Every man I’ve ever truly loved has danced with me in the kitchen. Spontaneity is the heart of romance.
My fiancé knew he was in love by our third date. I knew I was in love when he cleaned up my puke while I cried about it (welcome to Crohn’s, btw, sometimes…you just puke). I literally ended up on all fours on the floor, puking my guts out and ended up in a puddle of my own vomit. He stripped me down so I could get in the shower and cleaned everything up. That’s love.
You have your own language that only the two of you know. Talking in the same song lyrics, movie lines, or TV talk. It doesn’t matter, but the two of you encompass your own bubble. Others don’t get your inside language, but the two of you do and that’s all that matters, which brings me to my next point…
The two of you have common interests. Music, sports, TV/movies, some form of entertainment. My fiancé and I know Family Guy episodes backwards and forwards so that is a) something we binged (still do) together and b) we developed our own language from it. I’ve seen it in other people and done it myself in a couple of serious relationships.
Even some friendships have this quality. Once, my boss challenged me to use as many song lyrics as I could during rundown for the following shift. The morning shift didn’t get it, but we broke into slap-happy laughter at the end. (It happens when you work nights, 3 jobs, 2 classes, and 1 internship, lol.) My fiancé also knows the which Family Guy cutaway of all-time is my favorite (Stewie and Qbert, btw, it’s hilarious every time).
Do you feel like this person “gets” you better than anyone? Could they pass for your best friend? Infatuation (chemistry and pheromones) can seem like they’re in fact love and some would argue that that is all “love” is, chemistry and pheromones. It’s one interpretation of love.
The point is, if the two of you have nothing in common, your relationship simply won’t survive.
If they’re always busy, but make the time to let you know that they’re thinking about you through the day, you stand a chance. Common interests have been shown to be a deterrent to divorce and affairs.
I love going to baseball games, but hate watching them on TV. When the CUBS made it to the World Series, and won, I was sitting right there with my love because we both (separately, before we met) used to live near Chicago and developed a sentiment for them, so I guess you could call me a fan. Anyhow, for Christmas that year, I found him some memorabilia for the game we watched together and for his favorite player. He’s got a pretty good collection now. It was just one of those one-off moments that we shared that I didn’t want us to forget. I also watch college basketball games with him because he cheers for my alma mater. He always jokes that I hate sports, probably because I only watch if he’s watching. I also draw the line at football. He can watch it all he wants. Without me. 🙂
My recommendation, fall in lust, fall in love, hell, get a friend with benefits, but love yourself first. Without self-love, there is no room to love or be loved.
All pics come from Freepik, including title pic using Canva for title pic design.
Tell me how you knew you were in love the first time? In lust? In desperation? I’d love to hear your stories!