The Way I Want To Love, From A Woman Who Hasn’t Been Loved In Years

There was a time in my life where I thought I knew love’s true embodiment – times when I swore that this was the one that would carry me until the end of my days. And then one day I found myself alone again. If at first it may have started as a desperate search to get back to the place I felt most comfortable, it’s turned into something much more. There are days in our single lives where we feel content with everything we have, and although we show gratitude, there are times when we wish we had someone to share that very emotion that the world thrives on: love. It seems so simple – it’s just a four letter word. How hard could it be to find something which is only spelled with four letters? Extremely, and over the years, the definition of the emotion I thought I once knew (because I had felt it once or twice before), has an entirely new meaning. This is the way I want to love.

I want it to startle me.

Love at first sight sounds great but I want so much more than to know immediately that someone is deserving of my heart. I want the moment of sudden realization to creep on me in a moment of complete mundane like when I’m boiling hot water on the stove in my Sunday pajamas. I want to be blindsided in a moment of total and complete weakness to the thought.

I want it to test me.

Being in love means you face challenges and are constantly tested. I want that pain in the ass feeling of working towards keeping it together, even when you should be falling apart.

I want it to infuriate me.

Not in a “let’s fight everyday” kind of way- but in a “you do stuff that annoys me, but I love you anyways” kind of way. I want to feel piping hot so that when I finally cool, I’m blanketed in velvety warmth that can only be drawn from a fire.

I want it to be consuming.

I want to place it in my thoughts surrounding everything I do. The important decisions I make for my life, would be for ours. I want to think of it in the morning when I order my everything bagel, and before I doze off at night.

I want ridiculous.

It should be completely inconvenient and something we go out of our way to maintain, because we’re both a little weird and that’s why we found each other. I want 9 am selfies in the pouring rain while stuck in traffic, and cartoon slippers for nights on the couch.

I want it to bring tears to my eyes.

When you haven’t been loved in years, the sheer thought of the words being said to you when it’s time generates the same reaction as a woman who is getting engaged. I want that hand over my mouth moment of complete shock and excitement to well in my eyes so you can see just how much it means to me.

I want it to be humorous.

I want to poke fun and to be made fun of in a thoughtful way. The kind of humor you can only release on to someone who knows the deepest and silliest parts of you. I want to blow bubbles into my milk at midnight and pretend like we’re kids again, laughing until the sun rises.

I want it to make me forget.

For all the darkest moments I’ve ever had, I want them to fade from my memories just by awakening a sunshine that’s been so long since I’ve felt illuminate me. It will be worth the emotional burials and patches of grief.

I want it to last.

Different from all the other varied forms of love I have ever felt, I want ours to be different. I want the kind that lasts like a Willy Wonka Gobstopper and to be appreciated like the passion for chocolate of Augustus. I want to hold you in my heart forever and a day, and never walk away from the way I have always wanted to love.

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