Nic Narrates

I’ve almost told him countless times, but have held back. I’ve been wanting to find a way, a poetic way, to say “I love you.” And now that I have, now that the words are out there- floating somewhere between us, it’s not anything like how I thought it would be. Somehow, I can hardly believe, I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m shaking my head this moment at the absurdity of thinking I could control even this.

I got it into my head that “wouldn’t it be lovely to say it in bed one morning? ‘I love you’ instead of simply ‘good morning?’” Maybe we’ll be laying there sleepy-eyed and quiet. Maybe my bedhead will make us both laugh. And maybe as he pulls me closer, as he always does first thing, I’ll lean in and whisper. And we’ll kiss and we’ll…yes.

But what if instead I waited for another snow? Took him for a walk hand-in-hand? I began to think “what a nice bookend it would be” with it snowing all around us. Just like the day we met eight months ago, when I stood there hoping something like this might be true.

Or maybe a Christmas ornament? A keepsake, a memory, more than merely three words? Maybe I’ll write it rather than simply say it, then watch as he unwraps the paper and reads each syllable.

But none of those things happened of course. There was no hand holding or walks in the snow or declarations under the covers. Instead, it came in conversation. It came as a confession, an explanation, an “owning up.” More than clever, it was honest.

For the first time in my life, I love without requirement of it being returned to me this moment or tomorrow or the day after. In each scenario I dreamed up, I never once thought he’d say it back. There’s no disappointment now that he hasn’t.

I’ve never loved someone that way before…with such a loose hand, a trusting acceptance, a patience and honesty and still yet vulnerability. I think that’s how, more than any other way, I’m certain that I really do love. I love without belief or expectation of his feelings, but with the knowledge of my own and with the hope for the day he returns them.

Filed under: a thing of beauty, just say 'when', things people say, whimsy by Nic