The Perils of Saying "I Love You"

In the entirety of human existence there are no words more terrifying than a sincere "I love you". Well perhaps hearing "Off with his head!" when the aforementioned head is yours, and "Is that a fucking tiger?" when you're naked and alone in a swamp come close. But if you've ever taken a good look into the pair of eyes you're trying very hard not to be hypnotized by and seen all the myriad futures of joy and loss and pain and heartbreak and serenity tumble across your vision like a hail of broken kaleidoscopes, you'll take on the giant pussycat any day.

The only thing more terrifying than saying it, is hearing it said sincerely. Because if you do, and you don't feel the same way, you're about to become one of the storied bastards in someone else epic story. And if you hear it, and you feel it in return and you're like me, then you feel that proper panic. Because it's not as if you're telling someone you like their homemade jam. You're going to tell them that of all the creations in existence, they bring you the greatest amount of joy. Your being vibrates in harmony with the Source when they're near, you begin to see what all the holy men and women have written about throughout history, you start to finally understand what Marvin Gaye was singing about all those years, and you start to wonder why the hell you're legs are not working properly. You better be damn sure before you say the words.

The problem is knowing when it's true. Our generation has so many damn options, so many dreams and ambitions, so many places we could go, things we think we could do, that we are thoroughly confused in our souls. We've been stretched too thin. Our minds have been rendered easily distracted and changeable. The whole world is suffering from a combination of ADHD, coupled with acute persecution syndrome, and a general skittishness at making decisions. We're all a little dazed and confused. Pardon me if this doesn't apply to you, you're probably the grand exception, but you might consider taking a good hard look at yourself all the same. We have too many options in too many things. And we think that most of our options are attainable and will enhance our lives and our selves.

It's no wonder we get into relationships with an eye on the exit door, even if we don't realize it. I read somewhere than the rate of divorce in Bombay has gone up to somewhere like 86%. And the article was praising this figure as a sign of how many women are now disregarding the old stigma of divorce and making a positive change with their lives. And perhaps that's true. But eighty-six percent? Damn. What happened to the Love? Where does that go? Can you even give that back? It's not like it's a damn CD collection.

I wondering about this because I feel myself approaching a turning point in my life. A point where if I say "I love you" to someone, it won't be that adolescent whisper that you hope leads to sweaty shorts and rumpled sheets as soon as possible, or that panicked muscle response because you don't want the other person to get mad you didn't say it, (because you know your partner is going to get frigging psychotic if you pause for too long before replying in kind when they say "I love you"). I'm a grown man now. Hard as that might be to admit, (or believe if you know me well enough), but it's true. I love women, always have always will. But I'm just so damn exhausted with it all. A person needs his soul nourished and healed, not gashed and depleted, which is all that much-desired playboy lifestyle leads to. When everyone thinks you're intertwined with another woman from out of their dreams, you're sitting at home alone, missing a particular girl you treated not as well as you should have, because you were too much of a coward to say the words you felt and would have meant, when she said hers.

I hope I'm ready when the day comes. I hope I meet the girl who makes me hesitate not for a second before I say it. I hope I retain a fraction of my confidence and independence after I've said it and she's laid claim to the entirety of my emotional spectrum. I hope I don't get crushed. I hope I don't hurt her at all. I hope we can work it out. Because we're ordinary people. Messing things up seems to come as easily as breathing.

Goddess watch over me. I see her walking my way.