I still love you.
That’s what Ben tells me when I haven’t written in a few days. It’s his way of prodding, gently. It comes from a few months back when in the middle having a minor taking-myself-too-seriously crisis, Ben interrupted our late evening conversation to say, “I still love you.” Just like that. No expectations, no requirements, whatever whiney-ass mood you’re in, I still love you.
This morning’s “I still love you” came with a picture, its file name an extension of the message:
And there was Ben, younger and… hairier (sorry, B), standing atop a mountain, arms out-stretched. Thiiiiiis much, said the reach of his arms. I replied “you’re cute” and finished getting ready for my day. At first, it got me smiling. And then, it got me thinking.
“To the moon and back!” Was what my father would say when asked, “How much do you love me, daddy? How much?”
To the moon and back!
And here’s where I get sentimental.
Last weekend, while it was freeing in a way, was also very difficult for me. See, I’ve always understood that when two people share anything – whether it be a sandwich, an entire childhood, a kiss – it’s never going to mean exactly the same thing to both people. And when you’re talking about a shared relationship – a whole collection of varied experiences – the discrepancy between what each person takes away from it can be huge. And I had always assumed that I had assigned much more meaning to my relationship with J than he had. More than I should have. More than a reasonable amount of perspective should have warranted.
Turns out, I was wrong. But the damage was done and what years of feeling foolish does to you… well, it’s not easily undone. But it is what it is and I’m sure everyone involved has learned something from it. Look at me being so pragmatic. Talk to that feeling in my stomach though, and it’s much less cut and dried.
What do I mean to you? It’s not something we’re cool about asking each other. It’s something we’re supposed to read between the lines, figure out through the context of conversations, emails and facial expressions.
You make my life better.
I think you’re funny.
We are temporary.
An unreturned phone call and sideways glances may read, You’re replaceable. While a tender pat on the head from the same person can say, To the moon and back.
Body language, rarely as accommodating as a mood ring, doesn’t always tell you what you need to know. And because, once we leave childhood, we no longer allow ourselves the naiveté to ask, How much do you love me? so much of it is left to guessing and intuition and sometimes even hope.
And sadly, in interpreting our worth to the people we care about most, far too much gets lost in the translation.
I just keep posting the same comment here over and over, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You are an incredible writer.
Yes, you have a gift. You put into words things I only dare to quietly wonder… Thank you.
They say that to love and be loved in return is the greatest thing in the world. As unsettling as the experience has been for you, you at least know that you meant something to someone – and, if your blog and comments screens are to be believed (
), to a lot of people.
There are some of us who go through our lives too afraid of being hurt to risk being known or to ask what we mean to anyone else (or maybe it’s that we don’t want to give up that need for control ?? who knows), and therefore we miss the experience of being loved for ourselves and knowing that we really had an impact on someone else’s life.
It may take time to fully digest what you’ve learned but what an encouraging and affirming experience to learn that there was someone you cared about who, although not able to fully appreciate you, at least knows now how much of an impact you had on his life!!
Know that you make a difference to lots of people!! Happy Friday to you and Ben!!
Notice the trucks (it’s before they were called SUVs) way back in the background? And how my hair is standing up on end? It’s because we’re on a 13,000 foot mountain a few thousand feet from a thunderstorm. Smart college kids.
The date of that photo? July 1992. Scary long time ago.
This post makes me want to tell my friends, my family, my loved ones what they mean to me. So they don’t wonder their worth. That might be the weekend project.
Hope they don’t think that I have been body-snatched.
My boyfriend (now husband) said the “L” word to me several weeks before I could muster the courage. (I was on “like you a lot,” still–or so I thought.) Then, when I was away from him for a few days on spring break, I realized I missed him so much that maybe–just maybe–I should try out saying “I love you” back to him. It felt like a great leap into the unknown: Would I really believe it? Would saying the words make it so? Would I ruin everything by overstepping my own feelings? It was scary–I’d never said those words out loud to a boy before.
More than 23 years later (21 married) I’m glad I made the leap. But looking back on it still takes my breath away.
Well done as always, Fish!
my, how these words of yours ring so true. no you’ve got ME thinking about love. le sigh.
happy friday, fish.
“What do I mean to you?”
I can handle holding onto the naiveté asking that question requires, but what twists me up is the perceived insecurity that goes along with it. Damn pride.
Thanks for this post. It was just what I needed to read today. And very eloquently written, as usual.
It’s funny – your post about what J said threw me into a refective mode about my past relationships.
I always was the one who loved to much. I always was the one who would try to make it work… and so on.
But now… I guess it actually feels better knowing that I may have actually impacted them, although it still pisses me off that they couldn’t act like grownups.
heh.
Love these posts more than usual Fish – you are one of the first pages I read every morning, and I’m really enjoying the read.
That was “reflective” not “refective”.
And “too much” not “to much.”
Man – proofread Angie. Sheeeeesh.
5 years ago I ended a 6 year relationship. Looking back on it I felt like I was mistreated, like he shut down and he didn’t treat me very well during the last year we were together. A year ago he called and apologized for treating me badly. He told me he was scared and felt pressure from outside sources to treat me impossibly well and he rebelled. He named all of the things I felt like he did and took full responsibly for pushing me away. It’s weird. I don’t know if that makes me feel better about that relationship. I thought that I would feel justified somehow…triumphant…right. Instead it just feels really far away.
This post came at a perfect time and was a huge help to me. Thank you.
What an incredible friendship you have with Ben…he seems to really “get” you.
oh my god, we’re on the same wavelength…
“How much do you love me?”
“I love you enough to wash your dirty underwear, you pig.”
http://overeducatednympho.com/?p=59#comments
(read post and comments)
Wow, wow, wow, allow me to join the chorus of those for whom this post is hitting a very personal nerve today.
I recently asked a very important person in my life a version of “what does this all mean to you?”.
And the heartbreaking answer that still knocks the wind out of me:
“I don’t know.”
very well said. i particularly like, “Body language, rarely as accommodating as a mood ring, doesn’t always tell you what you need to know.”
absolutely beautiful
Um, why exactly do you not have a weekly column?
How much do you love me?
Well, if you follow through with the Jason Statham thing, there will be no limit to my love for you. Even now, I’ll still wear your I Love Utah pin forever.
Something is in the air, such questions have been on my mind too.
In some cases the answers have made me very sad. But in others…it’s a relief, and a joy, to know that I can love and be loved.
Damn it, I need a tissue!
wow!
i read your blog a lot, but this is my first post. i suppose i’m with the rest of the crowd when i notice that you and mr. ben have something going on.
what i would like to know is; mr. ben, why not miss heather, and miss heather, why not mr. ben?
i’m a religious person; and when we have the feelings that you two seem to have, we marry each other. why do you make your lives so complicated and call each other “friends?”
oh well. that’s my .02 – i like your blog and i like what you have to say.
Thank GOD I dont have to pay for these sessions.
2 weeks ago, the most important person in my life walked out of it. We had been together for 4 years. He left. And I realize with the utmost remorse that these past years I haven’t told him enough how much I love him. I pleaded and cried and begged…..but, he does not think I deserve a second chance. He is too hurt. And I am almost dying of pain. Somebody please bring him back to me……..
Nicely done Ms. Fish. Very nicely done.
I’m with Chanie. Does Ben read your comments? I’d really love to know what he has to say on the issue. Why *not* each other?
i’m hungover today, but your post brought tears to my eyes. your words bring back feelings i’d forgotten about — insecurities and hopes and worries — while also shedding light on an emotion i could never quite place. thank you.
WOW! You have such an beautiful and powerful way of expressing what, I suspect, so many of us feel. Thanks for sharing your talent!
what years of feeling foolish does to you… well, it’s not easily undone.
so true and so sad.
he tells me years after he left that he used to love watching me sleep, play with his kids, just being together. somehow knowing now almost makes it worse. none of it meant enough for him to say it then or stay, so why must he tell me now?
this is so flippin’ true.
A boy friend should never be a boyfriend. I know. I saved the friendship I have with my best friend by not taking the next step. Once, we were close, but something struck me and I knew that if we took it we would lose so much more. To this date we are still best friends. On the other hand, a really dear friend of mine became my boyfriend, a long distance boyfriend, and if that wasn’t difficult enough, we had a disagreement that ended in him not returning any of my phone calls, and blocking me from his messenger. He didn’t even try to work it out. Even though i had told him at the begining: ” I rather be your friend for years to come, than a two month girlfriend”. Now I will never see or speak to him again.
I love your blog. And this post was fantastic. Nice work.
this, my friend, is phenomenal writing and phenomenal thought.
Your posts are always uplifting. They make me think about my own relationship too. You’re incredible.
What a beautifully written and moving post…
At least with Ben, apparently there is nothing lost in translation.
Eleven years ago, my “j” found his “tricia”….and I moved on and found another too.
Seven years later I hear the words muttered “i made a mistake”.
Three years beyond that my otherwise perfect marriage was in shambles.
And yet another year has passed and I still don’t know the answers. sitting here on empty.
It’s nice to know you DID matter, but it would have been nicer if he had realized it all those years ago, heh?
Beautifully said.
Wow, wow, wow, wow. This is the first time I’ve read your weblog and I have to say it made my heart beat a little bit faster. The last line of this post is the clincher for me….SO TRUE.
i just loved this line: “What do I mean to you? It’s not something we’re cool about asking each other.” i read it thinking you were referring to someone specifically, and i like very much how i’m still not 100% sure whether you were or not. if it was a direct question, i hope you get your answer.
Every once in a while I ask my best friend Ed, “Do you still love me?”
And he says, “Always.”
Every so often, he puts the Van Morrison song “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You” on the jukebox and holds my hands.
And once, recently, I said, “Do you think we’re drifting apart?”
And he said, “No.”
We’ve been like this for 15 years now. Never mind that he is married and I was married before I fell in love with a woman and lost her and was left with friends like Ed to sustain me.
I love you, Ed, Ben.
I’ve never commented, but had to with this post. Your writing is so evocative. I wish I was still young enough to ask ‘How much do you love me?’ and naive enough to trust the answer. Thank you for your writing…
you are amazing. pls visit my blog if possible.
I’ve been feeling quite lonley lately. Realizing that the boy I want to love me has no feelings for me. The typical boy girl story in my life. My friends tell me that I need to be brave and to let him know how I feel, but I’m not sure I would win at the game.
But the thing is, Fish, you made me feel less alone. Perhaps you’ve been accepted by more men than I have been, and perhaps you have more true friends than I have… I have no Ben to let me know he loves me… but you made me realize that I’m not alone in feeling the way I do. And your fellow readers helped me out as well.
Thanks to you all. From the moon and back. Perhaps I’ll say that to someone today… even though I think it would help if I heard it myself.