The Divide Between Loving And Being In Love

Dan Hill · Sometimes When We Touch

 

"You ask me if I love you, and I choke on my reply. I'd rather hurt you honestly than mislead you with a lie... Sometimes, when we touch, the honesty is too much, and I have to close my eyes and hide. I wanna hold you 'till I die, 'till we both break down and cry. I wanna hold you 'till the fear in me subsides."

I’m afraid.

Tears drip from my eyes and roll down my cheeks.

My lips tremble. My breath hitches.

I'm terrified.

I’ve been missing you for eleven days.

I have been strong. Resolute.

I’ve felt it in my bones that you are my person, waiting out there in the world for me.

You carry the most profound care for me, and I miss you. I want to be in your arms where so much warmth awaits me.  

Today, I listened to a dating coach on YouTube. Often, they say, “A man knows his intentions for you within minutes.” Or, they say, “In minutes, he knows whether he considers you wife material or a causal hookup.”

While re-reading old conversations. I saw on 6/21/2023 where you admitted you care for me but said you don’t know whether you love me. How can you not know? You have known me for ten years.

I keep contemplating the space between loving someone and being in love with them. I make excuses because we only went on about seven dates, and that was eight years ago. I reason, “How can he know based upon this whether he is in love?” Instead, I know he loves me as a person. I have boldly proclaimed, “Of course, he loves me.”

Oh, of course.

 I can see it in his eyes. I can hear it in his voice. It manifests in all his small efforts, communications, and expressions of concern for me.

But loving me as a person is not the same as loving me as a woman.

Will he love me as a woman? Can he?

How naïve I have been to assume that, given enough time, one ensures the other.

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I feel both for you so, so deeply. I know that I love you, and I know that I am in love with you. I’ve known for years.

How can you not know?

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There’s a quiet voice inside me, whispering feverishly:

Because he doesn’t love you.

She means:

He will never love you. NEVER!

I feel it deep within my bones. This voice forebodes doom.

Today, I lack the strength to determine whether she is a quack or a practiced augur. 

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"Sometimes When We Touch" Dan Hill