What does it feel like to be someone’s girlfriend? I wonder to myself for the hundredth time, waking up beside him, feeling cold because he stole all the covers. I wonder what it feels like to have someone say I love you, and it mean the same as you feel when they say it. What does that feel like? As I bring him coffee in bed, and kiss him gently awake.
What does it feel like to feel at home with someone, safe and secure knowing that you can rely on them when times are tough? I wonder as I sit groggily down at my desk to work another ten hour day so we can hopefully afford all the bills and groceries this month. What does it feel like to go on dates and celebrate special occasions with someone and not have to worry about who’s paying? I wonder as I stare blankly at the negative amount in my bank account, Call of Duty sounds in the background behind me.
What does it feel like to be respected and valued as someone’s special person? I wonder as I crawl under the blankets to cry after another one of our long and pointless fights. I wonder does happiness in a relationship even exist, is “love” really a choice like everyone says? I wonder, what does it feel like to feel proud of someone? Is it pride like when your favorite NFL team wins? Or is it pride like when you’ve accomplished something at work and you receive kudos from your boss? I wonder… as I make him dinner and serve him the bigger portion because I know he eats more than me and I don’t want him to go hungry.
I once was told, that a girl can wake up every day and tell her self in the mirror “You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.” but then, proceed to live her day by allowing herself to be abused, by selling her body to ruthless humans, by eating too much or too little and basically not being beautiful. Where love, true love, is a girl waking up and telling her self in the mirror, “You’re beautiful”, and proceeding to treat herself as if she is beautiful. That is love. Love of oneself.
Perhaps I’m just bad at this. I thought love in relationships was treating someone the way you wanted to be treated; pushing them to be their best selves, to accept them but not their problems, to help them grow and succeed in life, in hopes to align your goals with theirs. Of course, I’ve been wrong before. After all, I’ve failed 9 times before, even purposefully when I knew I wasn’t the best for them, but still 9 times out of 9 I was the common denominator.
What does it feel like? To be happy in-love? I wonder, as I hold him and let him sob into my bosom. Waiting for him to cry himself to sleep, so I can go and cry myself awake for another long… long day… of feeling utterly… exhausted.