Degrees Of Love
Some say love either exists or doesn’t. Some describe love as a longing for another person or thing. For me, love exists in degrees. It never ceases to linger. Sometimes love is stronger, like when you take that first bite of a moist, rich, dark chocolate cake. As it makes it’s way down into your stomach, you’re left full, satisfied, but also wanting more. And sometimes love is weaker. This is usually when some believe it is not there at all. Invisible. I say it is there, it’s just too small to feel. Sometimes it stays that way. Other times, it grows and you find yourself having that “first bite” feeling.
“So…”
“So… what do you want to eat tonight?“ I say, as we walk into his kitchen.
“Shannon, can I tell you something honestly?” He sits.
I laugh. “Uh, yeah?”
“I’m being for real. Can you just be serious for a second here?”
No, I can’t. I know what you’re going to say.
“Sure.” Crap.
“I know we have gone through a lot over these past couple months, but I honestly believe you make me a better person and I just wanted to tell you…”
Before the word was even uttered, I started racking my brain trying to find ways not to let him down. I knew I loved him, but at what degree? What degree is it acceptable to let the word ‘love’ roll off of your tongue so freely? The words of love seemed to be pouring from his mouth as freely as the tears from my eyes did from a past love. A past love where my hopeless heart spoke faster than my brain had time to think things through. An untrustworthy love. One not capable of being trusted at arms length away. Not this time.
“… I love you.” He spoke softly.
Silence. It’s amazing how loud silence can be when the last three words uttered carry so much weight. I tried to speak.
“I…”
“Don’t.” he said and walked over to me, “I don’t want you to say it unless you mean it. I’ll be here, by your side, when you do. Until then, just know that I do love you.”
It is one thing to be trusted by someone, but it is another to be loved. Genuine “first bite” love. The kind that makes you want to reach out and grab that person because you’re so afraid that if you don’t, they may slip away. So, with that, I stood on my tippy toes, wrapped my arms around him, and squeezed tight to make sure he didn’t slip.