Two. (The Joys of Being Lovestruck)

Why do I freak out the one time he forgets to say “I love you” when we say good night? Sometimes I seem to forget that he really isn’t my boyfriend, and that just because he doesn’t say it one time doesn’t mean that he’s stopped loving me. What is it with my twisted mind these days? Oh, that’s right…I’m ridiculously head over heels.

I’ve loved before. No, correction – I loved the idea of being in love. I dated my ex-boyfriend for 5 1/2 years. I ignored the fact that he was the only guy I had ever dated, and I allowed myself to believe that I would be ok staying with a guy who failed to make my heart sing. I wanted to say I was in love with him, but that wasn’t the case. I was in love with the idea of a relationship, the idea of being able to brag about how long we had been together, the idea of having a constant companion. However, as we grew older, it grew more and more apparent that we had almost nothing in common. And let’s face it, it’s hard to imagine a relationship between a type-A aspiring lawyer and an unmotivated wannabe actor lasting past college. (Hell, I’m surprised it lasted past high school.)

I finally found the cajones to dump him in May. I’ve since reevaluated what I want out of life, friends, and men. I need people in my life who are intellectually stimulating, motivating, supportive of me and my interests, and will love me regardless of what’s going on in my life or with my mental state. Furthermore, I need a man who…well, can be a man. (Cue the bad Spice Girls music: “I need a man, not a boy who thinks he can!”)

He’s just as motivated as I am when it comes to life goals; he wants to be a doctor, and I’m looking towards law. He loves ethnic food as much as I do (sushi dates are a must every time we get together). He’s incredibly intelligent (we’re talking high end of the gifted spectrum here) and reads even more often than I do. He can almost kick my butt at Scrabble. He can cook and bake, and actually loves my baking. He encourages my knitting and spinning, and even motivated me to pick them up again; I had stopped soon after the breakup. We spend hours on the phone doing everything from chatting to playing video games to watching episodes of The Office at the same time. He understands my family issues and how culturally influenced they are, since he goes through the same thing. He knows me inside and out, so well that he can do everything from recommend video games/movies/books that I’ll definitely love, to being able to tell if I’m upset without me saying a word. He tells my I’m beautiful and actually means it (i.e., isn’t trying to get into my pants…well I mean, I know he wants in, he is a 22 year old guy after all…but you know what I mean). He’s my best friend. He loves me as I am now. And for once, I know what being in love actually feels like.

The catch? Yes, there’s always a catch. Well, I suppose that’s for another post. I really don’t want to think about the caveats right now. Tonight, I am going to indulge the hopeless romantic side of me, and just enjoy being lucky enough to be in love with my best friend.

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