He Loves Me, I Love Him…… Not
Our friendship, it has always just been…comfortable. I could tell him anything and vice versa. In May, when the man I thought I would be with forever, dumped me and moved out of my house the night before my birthday, it was him that took the day off of work to take me out. Last winter when the kids and I all got slammed with the stomach flu, it was him that showed up to hold my hair back and clean up the kids. When he found out I was sleeping on my couch because I couldn’t bear to lay on my bed and look at the walls that had enclosed me and all of my pain for so many years, he showed up the next day with paint and a ladder. We spent the next three nights painting the ridiculously high walls, in shower caps so as to not paint our hair, until we collapsed on my bed in a pile of pizza and ice cream sundae’s. When his girlfriend dumped him, it was me who sat with him for hours coming up with a plan to win her back. After a long period of stress, it was me who went with him to his first counseling session, because he was too nervous to go alone. After a particularly scary incident with my ex, he met me at the police station, worried about me driving home alone. After that, he started sleeping at my house, in my bed, because I was scared to be alone. It’s not unusual to find us snuggling on the couch together watching a movie, me, nestled into his arms. When he thought it was going to be “the night” with his girlfriend, he sent me pictures of himself in different underwear so that I could pick which one looked hottest. When he came over one day and I was reading the drug information insert on a new birth control pill I was taking, we both laughed at the part that listed “breast growth” under the negative side effects section, because seriously, how could that be a negative? And then I’ll be damned when my boobs actually did get bigger, it was him who got the text picture that was captioned “I was going to send this to a girlfriend but it’s not like she would have ever looked at my boobs, and as a guy, I’m sure you have, so what do you think, did they get bigger?” And it wasn’t weird at all. It’s always just been….us.
In fact, we have always been so comfortable with each other, that scenarios like this, didn’t even phase us:
One time we were watching a movie, lying on the couch spooning, as we have a hundred times before, when I felt….it. Because I have a big mouth and no tact, I didn’t give the poor guy a chance to just be silently embarrassed. Without even moving I said “Yea, that’s not happening. Put that away.” Without missing a beat he said “Well then stop rubbing your ass all over it.” I flipped to the other side of the couch, we laughed, and after I made fun of him so more, it was over.
On top of all the oddities and awkward traits that we share, there is one common bond that we share between us, that I’ve never been able to share with another person. He knows what it’s like to not be wanted. By anyone. There are many paths that people take in life, but few people have truly spent the majority of their lives walking that path alone, except for us. Everyone goes through periods of lonliness, bad break-ups, divorce, or loss, but few people live that life on a near constant basis. Few people have raised themselves, and few people have no one. Few people will ever experience knowing what its like to be completely and utterly unwanted.
We had no one. Until we found each other.
But now things are different. It’s amazing how much things can change with just one conversation. Did I just not notice it before? I obviously have a track record of being seriously dense when it comes to reading people and their intentions.
“I love you. I don’t know when I started loving you, but I do. I love you and not just as a friend. I love you and I want to be with you. You are amazing. I have never met anyone like you in my entire life. You put everyone first, and you are always happy. Your eternal optimism, it’s so rare, I just can’t help but be happy when I’m around you. Your kids are amazing, and I watch the way you are with them and I know what a lucky man I would be to not only get to share my life with you and your kids, but to have you raise one of my own, if you ever wanted too. I know this sounds crazy and I’m rambling but this has been building up in me for a year now, and I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we had, but I can’t. I just can’t keep watching you go out with losers that don’t see how amazing you are. I want to be with you. I want you. I WANT you. I love you, not “even though” and not in spite of anything, I just love you. You deserve a guy that treats you right, and that’s me. I want you to give me a chance.”
I look into his eyes and I watch them as they slowly go from full of hope, to near pleading. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t move a muscle. It was like I was having some sort of out of body experience. All at once I felt so overwhelmed, the rush of emotions that had washed over me had thrust me into a near paralytic state. He loves me. He WANTS me. He knows me. He knows all my cracks and all my flaws, and yet, he wants me anyways. Do you know how that feels?
It feels scary as hell.
Now completely defeated, he manages to stutter out, “you don’t love me. I really thought you were the one person, who knew all of me, and loved me anyways. I’m going to go now and you know me, I won’t be back.” With that he stands up, walks to my door, and opens it. Before he walks out, he turns around to look at me and he says “Please. Please stop me. Please want me.”
I looked at the face of a man that holds a large part of my heart and I saw him breaking. I literally saw him falling apart on the inside. I shifted my gaze to the floor and for what seemed like an infinitely long amount of time, he stood there; and then,
I had my own movie moment right then as I slid to the floor and buried my face into my knees, me heart breaking into a million little pieces for him.
Because he loves me,
and I love him….
I just don’t understand,
how to be wanted.