Tuesday, October 15, 2013

The L-Bomb

BosGuy has an interesting post about the "L" word. No, not that L-word. It was about being hesitant to be the first one in a relationship to say "I love you". Although I suppose it could apply to lesbians too. But where I imagine it's part of their initial mating ritual, gay men seem very timid about prematurely dropping the L-bomb... or having it dropped on them.

BosGuy's perspective is that he doesn't understand this hesitancy. Granted, he's in a long-term relationship. As am I. At this point in my relationship, "I love you" seems hardly more than just another way of ending a telephone conversation, interchangeable with "Catch ya on the flip side" or "Tootles!"

And it's the perfect text message for those times when you want your life partner to know you're thinking of them but you have no other information of significance to convey. Such as, "Don't forget to make an appointment to get that suspicious mole checked" or "Someone named Damian called for you. Who the fuck is Damian?"

In which case "I love you" is the reply.

But I remember being single and in the dating pool, and I can recall very well that feeling of trepidation and apprehension. Once I went out with this guy, Greg. (The third Greg. Not the first Greg with the third nipple, the second one. I mean, the second Greg with a third... 'Kay, not important.) We'd been dating for about three months and spending every night together.

Smart, handsome, funny and professionally successful, Greg 3 was exactly the kind of guy I always dreamed would fall in love with me back in the thirteen-year-old-girl dreams I had in my early twenties. Okay, he was a little shorter than I dreamed. And if I did dream about nipples I'm pretty sure there were exactly two. But otherwise Greg 3 fit the fantasy.

The problem was that my tween-age dreams were always of the handsome prince falling in love with me and taking me away to live happily ever after. When they really should have been about us falling in love with each other.

One night over a romantic candlelit dinner, I began to suspect Greg 3 was about to drop the L-bomb and immediately my stomach went into knots. And when he said those words, I freaked. Internally. On the outside I was cool as a cucumber. Only when a cucumber has cold sweats, it's called "condensation". I forget my exact response but it was probably something like, "Oh... that's so sweet! Like that dessert tray. I don't know about you but that tiramisu is calling my name."

A banana split would have been more symbolic. Within a week Greg 3 and I were history.

For the life of me I can't recall when JB and I first said "I love you". Or even who said it first to whom. All I can surmise is that it must have been the exact right thing to say and the exact right thing to hear at the exact right moment in time.


  1. Well, you might have seen my response to that post on BosGuy's site. Not feeling it or being able to adequately return the words can be a relationship killer, and maybe it should be if 'love' is the ultimate goal of one or both of the parties.

    As it stands, even if successful, 1 out of 3 Gregs are not the best odds. Better to cut your losses and run from anyone with that name. : )

  2. You are one of the funniest bloggers I know. I love this post, and by the way, WTF you doing w my buddy Damian anyway?

    1. You just made my day, BosGuy! :) And Damian was my dermatologist's assistant calling with the lab results.