loves labours lost and found

Love is a many splendid thing,
Love lifts us up where we belong,
All you need is love!

- Moulin Rouge



Love.

Love is awkward...messy...fun...painful...beautiful....

Love.

You say it to your parents, your friends, your dog....

Then you say it to a person. "I love you." This one is different.

I have said the words "I love you" to four people. Each time was terrifying, and hilarious.

I would like to share these stories with you.



First it was Sami. Sami is my best friend.

We were 15, I think, at the time. She was my first girlfriend. We had been dating for, oh say, five-ish months with a 15% margin for error.

Being 15, being new to everything in love, I had wanted to tell her that I was madly in love with her and wanted to elope that night. Well, since I started to have romantic inclinations toward her. I managed to wait it out a while, but my timing was a bit off.

We were at my house; we were in my bed; we were getting it on.

As I recall, we were both fully clothed, making very awkward noises on my very creaky bed; I think my parents were home. We were a tangled ball of teenage thrusting-moaning-mess. I was about to hit the high point of the event when I said it for the first time. "OHGodIloveyou!"

Wait for it....

Wait for it....

...waiting....

And Sami says something to the effect of "I er...you?"

Close enough!

Almost...and I'm spent.

Yeah. It was not classy. It was not what I expected, but it did set the tone for my love life. And, it’s been along that tune ever since. Me, throwing myself head first into something, giving it my all, and grasping at the hope of what could be. Sad but true; really only funny in hindsight.



Let’s move onto Cate, whom I moved onto before I moved away from Sami....

When I first saw this girl, I was at work, and I believe I started drooling.

5'7, long dark red hair; curves, curves, curves; and, she spoke French.

She was B-E-A-utiful; I was stupid.

We started dating and about four months in she told me about a dream she had:

Her mother (who, I might add, is BAT SHIT CRAZY) and she were fighting.

Her mother said: "I want you to stay away from that girl, she is trouble!"

Cate replied, with tears in her eyes, "But Mom, I love her!"

She proceeded to board a bus with me and we drive off into the sunset.

I was driving us to her house when she told me about this and I was trying really hard not to laugh.

So, I just said "...did you mean it?"

With much conviction, she grabbed my hand and said, "Yes, I did!"

WOW.

What do you say to that, really?

I think I said "oh."

About two weeks from that day, we were in my car again.

This time it was parked. On a hill. At night, in a newly constructed neighborhood.

The drivers seat was leaned back, and I was in the middle of giving Cate the hicky to-end-all-hickies when I popped my mouth off of...well, I’d like to say it was her neck, but it wasn’t...and said, “I—” (HONK!) “—love you.”

Cate's ass had hit the car horn and it blared into the silence, covering my words.

“Shit!” Cate was panting. “Did you say something?”

"Uh...tell you later."



Now it’s Samantha's turn. I seem to have a thing for Sams.

We met on the internet, I was cuter than her...by a lot, but she was funny and charming. I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress; Sam was a drug addict. Suffice to say, I let that slide.

Let’s set the stage:

I had pneumonia, for the last two of the first three weeks we were dating. She came over almost every day and took care of me. I thought I was dying.

As I started to get better, I started to walk her to the porch when she left. We would make-out in the dark. One night, it was like a movie, a cheesy cliché movie. The porch light was the only light we could see and it lit a circle around us. Sam had me pushed up against the brick wall, hands on my hips, lips on my neck. I said "You make me feel things that can't possibly be true."

She did not remove her face from the nape of my neck when she said "tell me."

I think I said something like "I'm scared..."

She said "please" in a way that I could not say no to.

"I think I love you."

Why do people believe that adding “think” to that statement makes it less scary? The words are out there either way!

She repeated the sentence back. We kissed, and we kissed some more. She told me that if it came down to me or the drugs she would always pick me. I was so much more important. I believed her.

Six months later, I found out that pain pills and marijuana are slightly more attractive and defiantly more addictive than I am. I cried. She smoked. I loved her, she loved pot....

It’s funny, now.

Now its M.R. not using his real name is hard because when I picture his face or think his name I feel the love I have for him.
That pounding, aching, dizzy love feeling, It makes writing this easier.
I knew the fist time I saw him years ago, that I wanted to know him. I felt the closest thing I can imagine to love as first sight.

Now that we are together I wanted to say it. for some reason I'm not just content to feel the emotion I had to verbally put it out into the world.
I started by trying to be sneaky, I'd wait till I knew he was asleep.
I'd whisper "hey...baby...? I love you!"

Then like I was a 5 year old child I'd giggle to myself and cover my head with blankets to hide from my oblivious sleeping boyfriend.
I did this over the course of weeks.

One night when M.R's mom's dog escaped at 12:00 in the morning I had to go outside in my T-shirt, shorty shorts, and bare feet...it was January.
I was lazy and it seemed like a good idea.

After spending a good 15min in the cold trying to catch the little runt I finally got to go inside. MR was in bed.

I said "3 things, 1. We got her. 2.I cant feel my toes. 3. I love you."
Mr said "that's only 2"

"no" I said, "there was a third thing."
he said "yeah but that's completely unrelated."

"no its not." I'm sure I looked very mischievous, "you are whats going to keep my toes warm!"
I proceaded to jump in the bed and press my ice cold feet against MR's toasty warm legs.

He screamed, I was content.

Sometimes I think I hear him say it, I love you.
But I never quite catch it, its in passing or something whispered.
I'll ask, "what did you say?". when he answers, its always something different than what I thought I heard.


I love the lyrics preceding the post, but I find these to be more appropriate:



You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need
-The Rolling Stones