There are 3 little words in the English language that when put together can make you feel like a million bucks, make you cry, make you laugh, scare the hell out of you or as George on Seinfeld shared, make a dog lick himself. They are "I love you".
The first time I heard these words from the opposite sex, I was in 9th grade. My boyfriend's name was Jason and he was a hottie. I mean the star football player, blonde hair, blue eyes, nice body, he was it on a stick. We were sitting outside after youth group on a Wednesday night and it was cold outside and I of course was wearing his lettermen's jacket because we were cheesy freshman. We were talking about something non important, and he looked at me and told me that he loved me. Now, I was only 16 at the time but I knew about love. I knew that you shouldn't say it unless you mean it and the depth of it was that you would truly die for that person. While Jason was cute, I don't think that I would jump all Superman style in front of a bullet if it was hurling towards him. So, for a moment I paused and said the most polite response I could think of. I told the boy "thank you". This of course shocked him a bit. He then preceded to ask me if I was going to say it back. I simply said no. Jason and I dated off and on through high school and not once did he say it again and not once did I want to say "thank you" so it was all good.
The second and third time were a little different for me. I had been dating this guy for all of a month and I said it to him. I got no response. Not a shocked look, not a dog lick, nada. It was okay though because I knew that he did and eventually he would tell me. That was the first time that I had said it to a boyfriend and no, he never said it back. It's cool though because we are friends now and I realize that it really wasn't love. It was just a like.
The third time I said it, I had been with this guy for about 6 months. He didn't say it back right at the moment but he did about a month later. We only said it a few times in our relationship and that was cool. When we said goodbye and ended things, we repeated the phrase to each other and both truly meant it but knew it wasn't meant to be. I hope he's well and that he's found happiness.
All of this blah blah blah lead up to Wednesday night. I was babysitting the kids at the church and I had snagged Jonathan some banana pudding (this lady at church makes some wanna slap your momma in the head good pudding) and I texted him saying that I had a surprise to bring him. He wants to know what it is, I decline stating that it's a surprise. He then texts asking if it was a 'blow up doll'. I reply with 'no, it's banana pudding but way to ruin your surprise for this weekend'. I waited for a response but got nothing so I continued wrestling with the 9 kids Robin and I were watching. About an hour later my phone rang, just once. I opened my phone and my missed calls revealed that Jonathan had called. I push the green button and the phone rings a few times.
J: hey
Me: hey, did you need something?
J: uuuhhhh, no
Me: well then why did you just call and then hang up?
J: um, I don't know, uh nevermind
Me: okay well bye then (and yes I say this a little disgusted)
J: bye? That's all you have to say is bye?
Okay, by this time I'm thinking the boy has taken something. He's acting very strange like but I just ignore it and he tells me that he got all of the classes that he wanted and we end the conversation with a 'see ya when I get home' thing.
About an hour and a half later, I arrive at my apartment and he's in the bedroom looking very pitful in the corner. I immediately ask him what's wrong because he looks like he's just lost his best friend. He proclaims that nothing is wrong and he kinda brushes past me. I am taken a bit by surprise because normally I'm greated with a 'hey baby' followed by a hug and a kiss. I again ask what is wrong. He looks at me with these sad puppy eyes and says that he figured I would be mad at him. Mad? Why on earth would I be mad? I scan the apartment. My furniture was in tack, there was no weird poop stains on the floor and my cat's throat is not slit. I ask Jonathan his reasoning for this thinking. He states that it was because of the text message. I am puzzled now…we were joking around I thought. Woa, lightbulb off in head.
J: what was the last message you got?
Me: the one about the blow up doll
J: (falls on bed, covering face, very dramatic) oh my gosh!!!!!
Me: what babe what?
J: I sent you 3 texts after that
Me: I didn't get them. What did they say?
J: (opens phone) push okay, back, up, okay, back, up, okay, back, up
I look down at his phone and I see what the first text reveals: "I love you". I almost faint. The next is "okay, no response". The third is "okay, I must have really freaked you out".
Ah huh, that's right. The man that I'm crazy about and is crazy about me spend 2 and 1/2 hours worring that a. I didn't love him back, b. he scared the piss out of me and c. that his words changed everything.
The boy can't even look at me. It's the cutest thing ever. He is being nerotic and all girlie like rambling on about how that was the first thing that came into his head because my response to the blow up doll text was perfect and that he didn't want it to ruin anything and he knows that we are headed towards marriage and kids but he didn't want me to feel pressured and that it demanded a response and on and on and on. Then after the completion of word vomit and me smiling at him like a goofy kid, he stops himself and says, 'I sound like you'. I laugh and we kiss and I say that I love him too.
While it wasn't all roses and beautiful music, to me, it was perfect.