day 16
I’ve never really been a love you outloud kind of person. As in someone who is comfortable saying, “love you” in a sincere way to someone else who has normally said it first in a living, breathing conversation. A boy who I’d had a love/hate relationship with at school visited me at uni once, very sweetly kissed me on the cheek and told me that he’d always love me at the tail end of a night out. Standing by a roundabout, the lights causing him to go in and out of focus, I just replied “we should be pen pals and keep in touch”!! This was at the tender age of 18 I might add. I was not in fact 12 and at summer camp, so it was really not that acceptable of a response.
Only recently in the last year or so, has my family started saying “love you” at the end of phone calls.
Love is a doing word for me. Giving presents, time or writing notes is how I tell someone I love them. It’s always felt like the more comfortable way to express it... A friend once compared me to a friendly cat, as opposed to a dog which embraces every human interaction with abandon. She said it was because I was like an animal which slyly comes in close for affection and then disappears round a corner to be by herself … It’s (embarassingly) eerily accurate.
Only recently in the last year or so, has my family started saying “love you” at the end of phone calls. It somehow felt necessary to, having not seen my parents in over a year, they’re being stuck in Australia and the old panny-d still in full flow in the UK, it felt necessary, important, essential to have the words existing out in real space, to try and make something tangible which we’d normally just express with cups of tea, hugs, music and lots (and lots) of food. I first realised I was not super comfortable saying those magic three little words, when I was 14, standing by the lockers and my new best friend insisted on saying it at the end of every school day. She would then shout at me to SAY IT BACK down the corridor when I didn’t, in an affectionate rather than abusive way, I might add.
In romantic relationships, I’m quite categorically awful at expressing it. I’m not really even sure if I’ve ever truly experienced it. Not in the same way that every song or rom com seems to imply. Anytime someone tells me they love me, I normally just go for “AWWW wow thank YOU would you like a snack??” and go back to whatever activity I can think of to avoid the conversation. Recently, I shared this little tidbit with a friend of mine while on the millionth walk around my local park over lockdown. And she very wisely replied, “well, maybe that’s because you haven’t met someone who you find it easy to say it back to.” And if that’s not some home TRUTH served hot what is.
Tomorrow is my birthday, which always gets me feeling kind of nostalgic. I’m turning a quarter of a century old. I like saying it like that, because it sounds more epic than 25. And BOY have I been feeling the love. Phone calls, random surprise deliveries of doughnuts / cakes / cards/ books is just a really lovely way to see the love out loud. But, it’s got me thinking that next time I see all of these sweet hooman beans again, inhale their totally “them” scent, give them a big goddamn squish and feel the total joy of being in the presence of someone I love, I might, just, well maybe say it. Or just bake them a cake… yeah I’ll probably go for the baked goods.