Actually I was the person at my school who everyone knew as the girl who didn't believe in love. I was hard core about it. I had my theory to a science. The whole we find a name for something we wish would exist, but we are driven by animal passion. Marriage is finding someone who you can stand to be with for extended periods of time. There is no one true person because you are compatible with so many different people... all that. I stuck by it.
I always explained my theory to my boyfriends so that they knew what they were getting into and they didn't expect too much out of me. And every single one of them said "I'll be the one to prove to you that love exists."
All but this last one.
He just accepted my belief and said that although he didn't share my beliefs he would respect mine and it was all cool. And he never bothered me about it again. My other boyfriends tried to push me into saying I love you. And of couse I wouldn't. I hate girls, women, who say they love their boyfriends for the sole purpose of talking. Or because they're dating and therefore it must be true. It was part of the reason why I couldn't believe in love. How could a feeling that was tossed around so easily exist?
My boyfriend insisted that we hang out every day, and at first I was terrified of the prospect. Why the hell would a boy want to spend every freaking day with me? But it was his car, his gas money, so I wasn't about to complain about what he did with it, and if that meant he drove me home from school every day just to see me a bit longer, than ... uh, that was cool?
You have to remember, since I didn't believe in love, I also wasn't all for getting all that attached. My last two boyfriends I had started fights with on purpose so that they'd break up with me because I was afraid they were getting too attached and I didn't need that level of seriousness messing with my life.
But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months (passing that month line is always a big GASP for relationships... Haha), I began to really enjoy myself. There was something different about this guy. I had had two serious relationships before then. My first serious boyfriend was really physical with me, and I knew that was wrong, but it had kinda scared me. My second had had to fight through that fear that had been instilled in me... I always put my arms between myself and my boyfriend when he hugged me... Stuff like that. But he and I had been friends for two years before hand, so he didn't treat me like a girl... more like the tomboy I had always been for him. But my new boyfriend treated me like a little girl, and I kind of liked that. I had always been one to do things for myself, but every chance he had he was doing things for me. And he wasn't pushy. He watched. He listened. He held me when I needed to be held. Without being asked. Which is amazing for a guy... He figured things out without being told.
And what was the most impressive was that he was trying his hardest to develop a relationship.
I started fights with him to see if he could handle them. And he would pull over the car to talk it out. Refuse to hang up to fix the problem.
Then we passed the three month line and he became my longest relationship. I still barely considered us serious.
We went to Prom. We spent every waking moment during the summer together.
And then I realized we were serious. We told each other everything. Our families were close. We were always eating at each others houses. I would call him and tell him to buy me razors on his way to my house cuz I'd run out. He'd call and see if I wanted to go see his brother in law before he left for Iraq... Our families got used to seeing both of us. Our classmates knew that if they invited one, they invited the other.
But I still didn't believe in love. Couldn't. We were only in high school for God's sake! I was only 16.
And then the summer started to end. And I started to get scared. I hadn't thought we would last this long. Or get that close. But reality was closing in.
He had signed up for the Army a month before we started dating. He was leaving six and a half months into our relationship. And I had no idea what do to.
Over and over I tried to break up with him. I would convince myself that if I held on, I would only end up hurting him and I couldn't do that to him. But every time I thought about it, tried to look into his eyes and tell him it was over, I turned away and had to cry myself to sleep.
He left. I was alone. Weeks went by and I started craving attention. But everywhere I looked, no one compared.
I had every oppurtunity to break up with him the sissy way, over letters. I knew I could. And I was ready to. But I sat down and thought about it. For a long time.
I remembered the way he held me when my dad yelled at me, the way he dug my dogs grave for me without telling me while I cried in my room, the way he raised one of my newborn kittens, the way he was late to work every day I was sick just to make sure I fell asleep okay... And I knew there was something different.
And you can't explain love. But all I know is that the same day I sent him the letter that said I loved him was the day he sent his, saying he didn't care if I didn't love him, but he loved me and I was going to have to get over it.
And when we saw each other for the first time in 10 weeks after his basic training, it was the most amazing experience in our entire relationship. Every single person that was there, that saw me leap into his arms again, said that there was no doubt that we were in love.
We have been together for quite awhile now. And every night he calls me and I remember that I am in love.