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Love as a Verb

February 12, 2017

https://www.facebook.com/Veravalentinethepoet/?fref=ts

Vera Valentines Blood is Ink posed a question.

Would you rather hear the words “I love you” or be shown through action?

Action.

Hands down, every time.

I made a bad joke about dating Scorpios and their inability to pronounce the word love but good god do they ever show it.

It was flippant.

But it did get me thinking. Life is a series of little amazing moments.

Those are the things I want to take with me when I leave this earth.

It is February. Nothing good has ever happened in February.

The last year of my failed marriage, I locked myself in my room for the entirety of that month. Literally screaming at anyone who tried to come in. I would wake up at 6am, take the dogs out, get provisions and lock myself back in before anyone else woke up.

Halfway through this godforsaken month lands Valentine’s Day.

Never been my favorite holiday. In fact farm hubby bought sisterwife and me matching jeweled trinkets, which sent me into a further rage.

She was never my equal.

She wasn’t my nemesis either, so under qualified. But she belonged there and I did not hence the massive amounts of discord throughout that relationship.

I do so hate being somewhere I don’t belong.

I do so love where I am now.

The former reigning champion for ‘the worst month ever’ has been surprisingly pleasant this year.

Last year was okay for the first half.

It is the anniversary of the sub-zero barbeque that led to me being smitten as fuck with the Giant.

Effort.

I like that shit.

It was -30 degrees Celsius and he made me a steak on a charcoal barbeque. With all the trimmings.

6 days later he dumped me for the traveling waitress and it took me forever to let it go.

But I did.

Yesterday was the first day of the rest of my life. Post eclipse. No attachments, lanterns lit and sent into the sky the night before.

And I saw the Giant.

He invited me over 12 times, stating he was ‘afraid I would knock on his door and he wouldn’t be home’. See above where I hate being places I am not invited and I flippantly stated that he knew better and that I required 10 invites ‘just to be sure’.

Cue the ‘come over’ texts x 10.

I wasn’t going to go. For the most superstitious of reasons. I was afraid I would offend the gods I had sacrificed all my ghosts to the night prior.

Panda came home and we made a decision based on a bottle of wine to go over to hang with him and our Dear Robert. They fed us pizza and I had a glass of incredible scotch, brought home from Scotland.

She cussed him out on my behalf, she had every right to, she cleaned up the mess he left.

She said she was proud of me, so was I.

I’m actually over it.

The text that sparked the pilgrimage to his house simply stated “I was wrong”.

For a brief second I thought he meant about everything. And I realized, after a moment, I didn’t care.

I was simultaneously talking to another boy (who may or may not be a gift from the gods who read moon lantern messages) at the same time.

Trying to make dinner plans, he said he believed he would have a hard time keeping his hands off me.

To which I replied ‘that is more than alright’.

Here comes the transitional paragraph…

There is a book called The 5 Love Languages

  1. Words of Affirmation(To be verbally acknowledged)
  2. Quality Time(To enjoy companionship)
  3. Receiving Gifts(To be given tokens of love)
  4. Acts of Service(To have their partners do tasks for them)
  5. Physical Touch(To be in contact via the body)

 

Everyone needs 1 or more of these things to feel valued in a relationship.

5 is my big one…I wither without human contact.

4 makes me happy and uncomfortable. I like it when people do things for me but somehow it throws me off. I think it is because I am a huge effort maker. Constantly looking for ways to add to the comfort and well-being of the people I love. Also it was a thing that I needed but never received in any of my long relationships. I am working on it.

I don’t know what the future holds.

But, as I was talking to Panda last night, I have realized what I want, and what I deserve.

Pick me up, take me out. Text me a couple times a day.

And yes, please touch me as much as is humanly possible.

 

 

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