Last night it took me a while to get to bed partly because I felt lonely. I probably definitely made things worse by watching a sad movie about a dying girl for whom love is still worthwhile even though she only has a short time on earth, and also I had residual tummy flutters (the bad kind) from the X5 coach ride. I was taking the X5 back to Cambridge from a week-ish in Oxford with Jacob and his family.
One evening while we were there, having just made chocolate orange cookies, I asked Jacob 13 questions and he asked me 13 questions, based off the apparently scientific '36 questions that lead to love' (I think the NYT article misleads you into thinking it means romantic love specifically but I have a hunch they are just 36 questions that lead to deeper connection - so friend love, neighbour love, stranger on a platform love, and not necessarily romantic love, although you could argue that even stranger on a platform love is in some way romantic). The questions also sent me to this reflection on love, which included a long list of 'love is...''s, little statements that made me reflect on how/who/what we are and how that manifested in that week in Oxford:
'Love is bringing them a peace they have always deserved.'
On a walk in Wytham woods I asked him 'Do you think you've changed in any way since we've been together?'
'Yes,' He said, with a sort of surprised definite-ness.
'How?'
One of the things he mentioned was that with me he feels calmer, which is something I definitely notice about myself as well when I'm with him. And conversely away from him there's always the initial anxiety of separation, the same funny feeling I'd get after leaving Grandma's after short respite weekends there in first year.
Having met Jacob's family the first time I stayed, this time I met one of his friend families, a group of guys he went interrailing with. They were all individually so great, and different, but together they got along so well and complemented each other's personalities so perfectly - they reminded me of a male version of the Sisterhood of Travelling Pants. I couldn't help but like them all, not just because they were Jacob's friends and I'd love them for that because a) I trust his taste in people b) They make him happy, but because they were great people. We sat round a fire that was (wait for it) in a globe and then I was initiated into the solemn rite of playing fifa.
Love is building them up every single day.
I didn't know who I was or where the ball was or which goal we were shooting into for most of the time an I know it's difficult to believe but I might actually be worse at fifa football than actual football (and Tim refuses to play actual football with me because I have a tendency to kick him and not the ball most of the time because legs and ball move so quickly in a game of football). And despite that Jacob would say 'great pass' or 'good job' when I did manage to actually have contact with the ball.
Love is making them feel beautiful.
Jacob is really good at doing this, particularly when I feel lumpy and embarrassed.
Love is learning to love yourself first so you can love them better.
And when he says it, I very often believe it. And he also brings out the bits of me that I love about myself - like how I get excited for other people's birthdays (25 February was a very exciting day) and how I find funny internet gems/good poems and share them with him.
Love is dipping a life-long friendship in honey.
One day we went running around Port Meadow which was possibly the muddiest run of my life but I loved it - muddy running is strangely satisfying, especially as your mind is so focused on jumping over puddles and skipping round sludge and keeping balance that there's no time to really think about your legs (although that comes in full force during the relatively less muddy bits, since all the mud avoiding is rather strenuous!)
Another day, in between study sessions in the Bodleian, we went to Pizza Express and each got a big pizza, and talked about a spontaneous trip post-exams (somewhere as warm as or warmer than England), and laughed over olives, and the view from the men's bathroom, and relished the pizza, and it felt like I was with a best friend but also more.
Love is winning at life together.
Those pizzas cost us nothing because of some special thing on the pizza express app - need I say more?
Love is saying sorry over and over again.
Jacob says sorry - a lot, and at one point we played a game to limit the sorrys, but I'm also really grateful for how easily he says sorry. He isn't proud or defensive, but just genuinely wants to make those around him happy and secure.
Love is living without the fear of being enough.
& Love is believing in yourself, sometimes for their sake.
In one of our conversations I looked Jacob right in the eyes, because this was really important, and told him that under no circumstances was he to think that he doesn't love me enough. That what he does, how he does, to love me is good, and sufficient.
'Do you believe it?'
'Yes.'
'Good.'
Love is being grateful for them.
Always.
No comments:
Post a Comment