Love

I love you.

I have never quite understood the meaning of these three words. I mean, I definitely understood that my parents loved me and vice versa, but that's not the kind of love that I'm talking about here. I am talking about love in the context of a romantic relationship (of course).

I first heard these words in that context while in bed with my college boyfriend. He was a real sweetheart with a huge heart, capable of truly loving and feeling sure about it. But when I heard those words, the only emotion I felt was surprise. Then a slow onset of anxiety / guilt. Was he expecting to hear them back? Was I supposed to be feeling that way also? What does that even mean?

I surely didn't love him as much as I loved my parents or even my brother. I was most fond of him among everyone else; was that enough?

Eventually, I gave in to the guilt and pressure (that I'm sure only I put in my head) and said the three words back to him. I felt a sense of relief and happiness from him, which I was happy to see. Seeing him happy made me happy, so we continued down the merry road of our relationship saying "I love you"s for a couple of years, though there was a part of me that always wondered if there could be more.

I broke his heart when I moved away to California. I still can't quite forgive myself for who I was back then, but the breakup was inevitable; I had a lot of growing up to do and barely knew who I was. I wasn't ready to be with one person for the rest of my life; I barely knew what I wanted in a year's time. I admire people who marry their college sweethearts and build happy lives together, but I was definitely not one of them. Too much uncertainty about myself and curiosity about the world dictated that I go out there and explore the world before making any kind of long-term decision.

So I did.

During my adult life, I've gone on many dates, called 3 more people my "boyfriend", and said those three words to two of them. I'm ashamed to admit that neither of those two times felt super genuine; I had strong feelings of love both times but also thought that by vocalizing the words my emotions would somehow extend and become more than what they were.

Looking back, I do think I've in a way loved every single one of the people I've dated. I cared for them as much as I cared for myself during the time I was with them. I don't think I loved them more than I loved myself, but their well-being meant a lot to me and I tried my best to make each of them happy.

But something was always missing. I was never fully sure. There was still a part of me that kept wondering if there could be more.

Now, I'm embarking on a new relationship, one that feels completely different from any of the ones I've been in. I feel more understood and already more comfortable speaking my thoughts to him than I have with anyone else in my life. And after talking about him about the concept of love, I understand what I was missing in all the past relationships.

I never fully felt comfortable enough to be fully vulnerable. I was never fully myself in a way that I wanted to be.

In my first relationship, it may have been because I hadn't discovered who I was yet even to myself; my quest to find myself cultivated in me wanting deeper conversations with him, but neither of us knew how to have such conversations. In subsequent ones, I molded myself to become someone my partner wanted me to be; I felt more lost in those relationships than out of them.

This time, I'll try to be myself. I'll try to be open and show who I really am. It doesn't seem easy, since the "I" that I know is also continually evolving; simply figuring out who I am for myself doesn't even seem an easy task. I'm also so used to putting on different masks and personalities to fit in to my surroundings that I sometimes wonder if there even is a "real me".

And of course, there's a fear that I will not be loved the way I am.

But I suppose this is all part of growing up. I can either become more comfortable being my full self (maybe not as smart as I want to be, and more susceptible to simple pleasures than I'm willing to admit), or continue to live not facing my true self and the flaws that come with it. I can either never truly love myself and never love someone else fully, or accept myself completely and be accepted just as I am.

The risk seems worth it. Especially this time.

I look forward to the day I can say "I love you" and really mean it. And I promise I'll work to get there with you.