I can remember the first time I told anyone I Love
d them. I was 17 and it was to Jenny Roberts under the railway bridge in Eastham. We’d been going out for a little over 4 months and I’d been thinking about the subject for several days. Eventually I just decided to spit it out and she looked at me, blankly. The world stood still for a few seconds, and in slow motion she replied, "oh
So yes, you could say I have a problem saying the "L" word. To avoid the crushed
feeling I felt with Jenny that night, I made it my policy never to say the "L" word first. Up until now, this has worked fine.
Last September I was thrown out of a long term relationship
(bitter? Who? Me
?!) and a week later went into another relationship. I know what you’re all thinking – rebound
. Well so was I. Of course she passed all of the rebound criteria with flying colors – female, beautiful and sexy – but as a couple of weeks passed, I noticed how amazing she really was. She was smart, funny, caring, laid back, independent, interesting, great in bed (or out of it), a fantastic drinking partner, a non-snorer, a.., a..., a new Love.
Like a big thing that sneaks up behind you and whacks you on the head, Love whacked me on the head. I knew the rule, no saying the "L" word first, I knew it. But I just had to say it. For days it was on the tip of my tongue, I knew any second it would just come screaming out, "I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVEEE YOOOOOU". I don’t know why it wants out so bad. Someone please tell me. And tell me how to stop it coming out too while you're at it (some tips to get out of saying it
So anyway, we’re sitting in a bar one night having a drink together and decide to tell her. I wait for the moment and then start the bombing run, "I’ve got something to tell you...", we take off. "I’ve been thinking about us for a while, and I’ve come to the conclusion...", I sputter as we get airborne, "that I think you’re great, and well...", over the target now! Drop the bomb! Bombs away! "I think I’m in Love with you", KABOOM!
This is the part where I’m thinking, "Chrrrist, that weapons factory looked pretty much like a church or a school or something", and my stomach in knotting up. She looks at me, blinks, and answers, "of course you do."
Although she hasn't told me she Loves me, I don't feel like I need to hear it anymore. I know she cares about me, which is enough. Maybe she does Love me, who knows. But one thing I have learnt is that when someone tells you they Love you, you'd better have a damn good answer for them.