How I Know I Love You...

AUG. 21, 2012  By MILA JARONIEC

I know I love you because I want to get you soup when you’re sick. Not only do I want to get it for you, I want to make it for you so you can eat something made with love instead of with crushed insects and preservatives. I know I love you because I want to slap anyone who hurts you, even if it’s your boss. I want to hold you when you’re having a nightmare and kiss the spot that hurts when you bump into something. I know I love you because I want you to be healthy even when you’re not sick, and that’s why I keep bugging you to change your crappy eating ways even though I know you’re over hearing about it.

Don’t Tell Me You Love Me ...

By CHARLOTTE GREEN

Of course I want to hear it. Of couse I have stayed up for more nights than anyone would want to admit, imagining what it would be like when you would finally tell me that you reciprocate all of my squirming, embarrassing feelings. It would be disingenuous for me to say that I don’t care — even if it would make this easier for all parties involved. We always want to hear each other say “it doesn’t matter.” We want to believe that we can behave however we’d like without any effect on those around us, that we hold no responsibility to one another.

And yes, to be perfectly honest, we don’t really owe each other anything. Being forthright and not intentionally hurting each other would be a good start to how we should treat each other, but when you throw my feelings around with complete impunity — do I really have a right to hold your feet to the fire? Do I really have some territorial claim to your behavior? You never said we were together. You never promised me something you weren’t going to deliver on. Yes, you misled me with enough half-truths and vague semi-promises to love me that I filled in the blanks with what I wanted to hear, but that was my fault. It was my choice to give you my heart, and you breaking it is not something I didn’t anticipate on some level.