Why it was terrifying to say “I love you”

I say it to my family, my kids and my dog all the time. I even say it to my friends and every now to random strangers that for any reason brightened my day. But when it came to someone I was actually developing heavy feelings for it was really hard and scary to admit… truly difficult to declare such a feeling to even myself. He defiantly isn’t just a friend, for me to say it casually, neither is he a life time partner, …so I called it many things instead; a crush, a fling, liking, closeness, intimacy, passionate or even just good friends who share a connection and fuck well… But to call it love? To admit that I let myself fall in love was implausible. Using the “L” word? Nooo…

For the longest time I would tell myself it was nice because it was forbidden, or because I lacked that in my life, or because the combination of sex and friendship is exhilarating… I would tell myself that I was probably just a fuck buddy to him that he’d only contact when he’s horny or lonely… I would tell myself what if my feelings are just situational. I would sometimes even back off for days or weeks, just to try to get him out of my system, or not fuck up his, but then I’d long for him… I’d miss the flirting and the laughing and the sharing… I’d miss the comfort and the conversations… I’d miss the passion and intimacy… and I would miss exploring my sexuality with him…

Once, it is said, you cannot take it back… It’s hard to distinguish if I was trying not feel it or admit it because of the ambiguity of the relationship; I still cannot put a name on it, let alone whether it will last, to call it love, or if leaving it unnamed was a choice or because if I said it, it meant a commitment of some kind. Love for me is not hearts and red roses… it is a declaration that should be honoured and respected and rightfully earned… not something to be wasted or declared so hastily.

However, it wasn’t like something magical that happened from first sight, or a feeling I realised over night, it was a feeling that organically grew and connected over time…

When we first started talking; they were just fun and intellectual conversations that were incredibly interesting… and I started to enjoyed his company, his words and of course, and who doesn’t like a little bit of attention. I allowed myself that…

The first time we hugged, was a few days after my husband had laid hands on me… we had been talking for just a short period before and we met for coffee. I had lied to every person I knew about how my face was all bruised up and although I was so ashamed of what I have just admitted and felt so broken, for some reason I didn’t feel the need to lie to him. For some reason I didn’t feel any shame or helplessness… and he made me feel so safe to talk about it, no judgments, no over analysis, sharing his rock bottom and he just stood up and hugged me. Right then I was sure that he was a person I want in my life. I felt such comfort and trust I have never felt with anyone ever, in fact I felt strong in his arms.

After some time, the flirting began and for one that flees away from anyone who dares to seduce her or even comes close… with him I liked it. It was cute and subtle in a cheeky witty kind of way. I knew he was married and so was I, so I thought it was harmless, since we both won’t ever act upon it. But, I did start to fantasise about fucking him while we were discussing mortality or the world war two…and I started to crave him and lust over him without even realizing it…

When we actually did kiss…it was after a long anticipation, and it was soft and heated and romantic and he stole my breath away. He was my first kiss after 15 years of loyalty to a fucked up marriage and it didn’t feel like cheating, it felt right!

The first time we had sex was quite a while after that, and although it was something I never thought I would do while still married, it felt incredible and comfortable and hot and intense… Not that I had bad sex back home, but this was intimate and passionate and liberating… with no inhibitions and no fear of judgment or criticism.

After that, we opened up about fantasies and sexualities and kinkiness and weaknesses and decisions. I was finally myself with someone, without any barriers or masks. He managed to open up parts in me that were locked up my entire life. With him I became freer; mentally, emotionally and sexually, a feeling I never experienced before… something I didn’t know existed. With him, my defences switched off, my anxieties and self-consciousness shut down and I felt safe.

However, after my one-night-stand, he was the first person I wanted to tell, he was the onlyperson I wanted to tell, to share that experience with… yes it’s fucked up, but it’s true. I was excited and overwhelmed from what I just did… right then I knew… I knew that I felt more passion with him than the high of sleeping with a sexy stranger, I felt more comfortable and naked with him to talk and share anything and even if I do ever sleep with other people, I still felt a sense of commitment to him in a completely different way.

And as scary as that was, the triangle of love, at least for me, was complete

“Only the united beat of sex and heart together can create ecstasy.”

― Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus

The thing is, when he said I Love You… it was like he was making a declaration about himself and his own feelings, regardless of how I would respond… and although I didn’t feel the slightest pressure, it still terrified me… and I kept telling myself that he probably doesn’t mean it… When I finally did, and although I had already made sense of it by then, is still scared me… it still scares me! It feels like something I am not supposed to be allowed to feel… But as terrifying as it is; it is real… even if this ends one day, it doesn’t matter, even if the love fades, it doesn’t matter. This is my reality now.

4 thoughts on “Why it was terrifying to say “I love you”

Add yours

  1. Deep.
    Love, the most beautiful torture that the universe gifts to those when they least expect it. It leaves you speechless. I leaves you trying to find words that don’t exist to explain a connection that is so heavy, yet the farthest thing from tangible. Something so beautiful, but we hide it because its not supposed to exist with the person we discovered it with. I loved your post.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. and i love your description of it… Because the word love describes an extremely wide spectrum of connections, so when something heavy or unfamiliar or unconventional comes along, calling love feels unfair and scary.

      Liked by 1 person

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