I care too much way too quickly, and I force myself to scale it back to accommodate their comfort level. I don't use phrases like "I love you" in relationships. I say that I care, or that I worry about them, or I hope they find happiness. I genuinely mean those things. I have often been the one who cares more, who says less. I know that the person who cares less has more power in the way a relationship goes. That's why you see so many stories about frantic pleading and begging that the woman you love would give you one more chance. It's why there are so many movies about not being able to let go of a man, simply because you hope he may still care. But I cannot beg. I will not plead. I want to find the kind of love with someone where you don't have to worry or doubt or second guess yourself, because you're secure with them no matter what comes your way. You've decided that you'll see it through. Side by side. Hand in hand. Or, even thousands of miles apart, if you make that choice.
However, it's painful to be the one who cares more and is acutely aware that even though you temper your language and use softer, less formidable, scarcely permanent phrases, that the other person still doesn't match you. It's incredibly lonely to be someone like me, who feels everything so deeply, and pretends to be okay because the expanse of my heart would swallow them whole if they only knew the truth. And the truth is, I'm not lying. I may use gentler words and craft my thoughts in so particular a way as to not betray my very carefully guarded heart... but I still mean every word. I don't say "I love you" even when I want to. I have nearly pierced my own tongue a dozen times to keep from saying too much too soon. I'll tell him I have a lot of love for him. And that he's important to me. And I will apologize over and over and over again for feeling what I do. I will tell him that I'll kill him if he repeats his mistakes again, because the last time he put himself in danger nearly gave me a heart attack. I'll advise him to go back to someone he once loved to see it through because I'd rather take the chance that he be happy with someone else than worry that he'd always resent me if he hadn't. I'll tell him I'm okay just being friends, because I'd rather have him in my life a little than not at all. I'll send him paragraphs and paragraphs telling him I hope he finds the beautiful life he's missing, knowing I will never see a reply because I'm not a part of it.
I don't have a broad enough vocabulary to express the ache in my chest when I see that you've had a bad day and my arms are not long enough to reach across the billions of acres between us. I want to hold you to my chest and kiss your head until you can manage to take a breath deep enough to fill your lungs for the first time in hours. I don't know how to say that my body craves to be next to you and just sit in silence as we let the seconds wash over us like a warm bath. Comfortable. Safe. I want my presence to feel like home someday. I want to know that you, the person I adore, wants nothing more than to put your head in my lap as you recount your day as I sip my wine and trace my hand across your back in quiet, lazy circles. I want to make pasta at 2:30 a.m. with you as our cat circles around our feet. Even when we should go to bed, I want to pour us another whiskey and coke and laugh a little too loud at nothing incredibly funny. I want to put my makeup on for a night out while you play the piano. I want to walk home with you and curl up under your arm as we watch movies until the city streets outside get quiet. I want to feel your heartbeat against my cheek and know that in that moment we couldn't hope to be anywhere more perfect. I want to wake up with my feet tangled in yours and the blanket tucked around our waists. I want to roll over and count the freckles on your shoulder by the sunlight streaming through the blinds. I want you.
I want the person I want to want me too. Every day. Even when we fight or disagree or aren't on the same page. I want to know that despite the stress we pick each other to come home to and find solace and peace.
Most of the time I find myself tempted to be more open as I feel the spark is dying. It's like I've developed a sixth sense for failing relationships. I've gotten very good at knowing when the end of something is about to begin. I've been through many endings. I've caused several, and been the victim of a few as well. I've anticipated the silence months before it came to pass. I can hear the shift in someone's tone through the words they type. It's a skill I learned years ago. I'm attentive. I notice things. I have known some people so well that they could write the same exact sentence on three different occasions, and I can tell their mood and state of mind is the same on the first two, and drastically different on the third.
I want the person I want to want me too. Every day. Even when we fight or disagree or aren't on the same page. I want to know that despite the stress we pick each other to come home to and find solace and peace.
Most of the time I find myself tempted to be more open as I feel the spark is dying. It's like I've developed a sixth sense for failing relationships. I've gotten very good at knowing when the end of something is about to begin. I've been through many endings. I've caused several, and been the victim of a few as well. I've anticipated the silence months before it came to pass. I can hear the shift in someone's tone through the words they type. It's a skill I learned years ago. I'm attentive. I notice things. I have known some people so well that they could write the same exact sentence on three different occasions, and I can tell their mood and state of mind is the same on the first two, and drastically different on the third.
I know him well enough to tell when he's feeling distant. I know him well enough to know when he's hiding something. I know him well enough to know when he's annoyed at me. I know him well enough to know that I hurt his feelings.
I know the people I love very well. But I can't tell them I love them because then I lose control of the situation. If I stay just distant enough, I can manage to hold on to the reins of the relationship. I can love so much and say so little, because that way when the ones I love leave me, I don't have to regret that they have heard me say things I wish I had never felt for them. I try not to regret the people I have fallen for. Some I've succeeded. But... with a small number of others I still find traces of remorse that things never turned out the way we had once dreamed they would.
When I hear their name and remember I was once brave enough to put it into a sentence preceding the words "I love you." I get this pit in my stomach. I am not that girl anymore. My boldness has faded into a quiet bravery that sits in the shadow, leashed, waiting to be set free again. It's not weak, merely biding its time. But part of the problem is that my boldness does not know which direction it should take. My heart has felt a little like a revolving door as of late. There are moments I am certain, only to be completely lost hours later. My ability to commit is stunted and fragile. Why, I can't quite explain.
When I hear their name and remember I was once brave enough to put it into a sentence preceding the words "I love you." I get this pit in my stomach. I am not that girl anymore. My boldness has faded into a quiet bravery that sits in the shadow, leashed, waiting to be set free again. It's not weak, merely biding its time. But part of the problem is that my boldness does not know which direction it should take. My heart has felt a little like a revolving door as of late. There are moments I am certain, only to be completely lost hours later. My ability to commit is stunted and fragile. Why, I can't quite explain.
I was brave once. I had so much faith before. Now, all I want to do is feel confident that if I tell you how I feel, I won't want to take it back 2, 5, 10 months from now when you choose to leave me alone with all these words I didn't have to guts to share with you. My heart can't tell who is going to stick around, and who is merely using my heart as a waiting room until someone better comes along.
I don't have enough words to express my heart. Or, maybe I do and it's so simple it scares me.
I love you....
....I love you.