Stumble

“I don't think I could love you so much if you had nothing to complain of and nothing to regret. I don't like people who have never fallen or stumbled. Their virtue is lifeless and of little value. Life hasn't revealed it's beauty to them.” ~ Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago

Every time he goes out of town or goes out with his friends, he and I strangely become closer. Maybe it's true when they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, or at least in his case, it apparently does.

He went to Atlantic City recently with the guys. As soon as they got on the road, he started to text me. He'd text me his "coordinates" and show me with Google maps where they were driving. He'd even take snapshots of the road and send them to me.

As soon as they arrived in Atlantic City and checked into the hotel, he sent me photos of his hotel room, and of the view from the room window.

I found it cute and endearing that he had basically taken me along on the trip. A friend of mine, however, commented that he seemed obsessed.

That night, I did not expect to hear from him. I had expected that he would be out, having a good time with his friends, gambling or partying the night away.

So, I was surprised when he texted me. He had admitted that he had been drinking a little. Jack & tonic. Nothing potent. But for a health buff like him, he said he was feeling a bit buzzed. Truth serum.

We had texted back and forth for a number of minutes. Almost 30 minutes. I had started to grow impatient and wanted to continue with what I was doing - listening to the Saturday Night Safety Dance. I bid him a good rest of the evening.

He, however, was not ready to end our texting conversation.

From way out of left field, he asked, "Do you love me?"

Maybe it was not way out of line, but his question startled me.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"No, I don't think so." Followed by a crying emoticon.

"Why?" I asked.

"I don't know," he answered. Followed by 2 crying emoticons.

I was suddenly hit with a pang of sadness. I know the feeling of loving someone and feeling unloved in return. I know the feeling all too well. I wanted to weep at the sadness of it all.

I thought about how he was in Atlantic City and how he should have been enjoying the evening with his boys. Instead, he was at a bar, most likely by himself, wasting the evening texting me and wondering if I loved him.

"I do love you," I texted him.

---

I wonder what qualities in me are deficient such that nearly every one with whom I have a relationship feel as though I do not love them.

Am I not expressive enough? Am I expressive at all? Is my touch cold and unfeeling? Do I kiss without passion? Are my hugs uninviting and not easily accessible? Am I the typical, unaffectionate, detached, Asian girl?

I know that I hold back a lot of verbal expressions of love. Being vocal about my feelings was never my strong point. I prefer to show my love in little, quirky, non-vocal, non-public ways.

He himself is subtle in the way that he shows love. But I know. Why is it though that he doesn't know that I love him?

It hurt me that he didn't know. It hurt me that he had to think about it.

I don't want him to have to guess about me. I want him to just know. I want him to be feel secure, everyday, in the knowledge that I love him, the way that I am about his love for me.

Because doubt is poisonous. It spreads slowly, but it is lethal. Once doubt is injected, it's almost impossible to counteract.

And I don't want there to be any doubt.

I love him. And he needs to know.

I will kiss him more. Hug him more. Greet him enthusiastically. I will look into his eyes when he talks to me. Even if he talks about something in which I have little interest, I will listen with open ears and with an open heart.

One of my favorite love songs is Somebody from Depeche Mode. The somebody that Martin Gore sings about in that song embodies what I have always wanted in a partner as well, and what I have wanted to be for that somebody.

"But when I'm asleep, I want somebody who will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderly."

I hugged him yesterday before he left for work. I held onto him for longer than usual.

Last night he told me that he felt me melt into him when I hugged him yesterday morning.

"I felt you. You almost stumbled."