How do you know you love(d) him? [Written March 2018]

It’s funny - when you ask young, happy, beautiful people, “How do you know you love them? How do you know it’s going to work out?” Usually, they just say, “When you know, you know.” And people accept it with a smile because, “Isn’t it sweet?”

But when people ask me why I loved him - and believe me they asked A Lot - that simple and sweet answer never cut it. I understand how it looked from the outside. I think that’s why I find the “How” question easier to answer.

I loved him because he was there during a time when I felt very alone and unheard, and he only wanted to listen. In a lot of ways, I think we were an escape for one another. I took him - for a few moments each day - to a simpler place away from the daily stresses of adulthood. In turn, he gave me a glimpse into the life I was longing for and gave me hope that all the shit I was going through would pass.

I loved him because he made me feel seen and valued, because Lord knows he had better things to do with his time than to pay attention to me. Even when he was gone - I couldn’t write him off because I felt like I understood why he might need to take a break from me...no matter how much it hurt me. Besides, he always came back eventually and each time it was like no time had passed. We just picked up where we left off and continued planning our future again.

That’s another reason I loved him; he gave me purpose simply by having his own goals. He inspired and encouraged me to work towards something when everyone around me seemed so aimless. I loved him because he had to care about me ... right? Why else would someone put that much time into something / someone? It’s not as though he blew me off immediately after we had sex the first time - and he could have. It’s not like we saw each other every day.

I loved him because when we were intimate, he always made it feel like some sort of magic moment that we were lucky to have been able to experience in the first place and may very well never get to experience again. I loved him because he made time and distance seem like such small things. Such little inconveniences that we could absolutely overcome with minimal effort. He made everything - absolutely everything - seem possible: travel, experiences, wealth, education, dreams, true and everlasting love. I couldn’t end a conversation with him without feeling some weight lift off my overburdened mind.

I loved him because he understood the subtle balance between being together and still being individuals, too. Without that balance, you’re just in love with the concept of a person. I loved him because he made sense of things for me. Not just big, complicated life problems but the simple stuff, too. From technology to secondary education to politics. He prided himself on being knowledgeable and I found no shame in being his student.

I guess those statements inadvertently answer both “why” and “how”, and better than most of the newlyweds I know. If only I knew he even once felt even a portion of this way towards me...

I feel like I always do this - make love out of the moments and glimpses of love but never stopping long enough to make sure the other person feels that way, too. Sometimes I even wonder if I ever really showed him how much I meant all the frilly things I said. Maybe at a certain point he stopped counting on me, too, and I was too young to realize how much damage my ignorance was really doing. It’s not that we were bad people, or even bad to each other. I guess we just never sat down and figured out how to really love one another - at least not with the hands we were dealt.

I don’t want to refer to cliches but maybe it was all just a learning experience for each of us. A lesson in letting go. Unfortunately, I can’t stop re-reading my notes trying to make sure I didn’t miss something. Even though at this point, no matter how much I learn or analyze, there is no going back and changing things. Is it weird that I sometimes wonder what he would say to me - as the friend he once was - about the situations I’ve found myself in over the years? I’m sure he’d be disappointed - I had such potential - but he was never rude or brash about his disapproval even when he had every right to be. He was always there with advice and an offer to help, “If you ever change your mind.” I sometimes regret not taking him up on the offer, even if I knew that things between us would have turned out the same.

That’s another reason I loved him, because at a certain point he finally realized how toxic we were to one another. He knew I’d never tell him to go, so he took himself out of my life to give me a chance to learn and grow without him. I wonder if he let me go to see if I’d come back - maybe I should have. One last go around. Or maybe everything does happen for a reason. Or maybe I need to just stop writing about this. But if you ever want to share your dreams with someone - someone who cares deeply and whole-heartedly...let me know.