The Adorable Stalkers

There comes a point in a serious romantic relationship when you feel it is appropriate to say three little words. Aloud. And to the person you are dating. Not just about him in passing. Or in emails to your mom. To the mirror, or in G chats with your friends as you freak out about the bitch who keeps posting suggestive messages to his Facebook wall.

I have only said those words to two other people in my life. And I forget how it works. The first time a boy told me, I responded by slapping him across the face and huffing, “you don’t understand the concept.” In my defense, we were only two months into what would become a five year relationship and he hadn’t witnessed me flip out yet. Say it after watching me throw at least one temper tantrum and we really have something. The other person was my live in boyfriend, and more times than I care to admit, I found myself saying the words more as a question than a declaration.

Three years later, I find myself in a position where I am testing out the words, feeling the weight of them upon my tongue, rolling them around to see if they feel ready to making their big debut. So far, they remain resting along my cheeks, forcing me to just smile a lot, and say things like, “I love … your arms?” And, “I love … the way your face looks right now.”

It kind of reminds me of Monday night swim practices in college when I would stand on the deck, dip my toes in the water, complain about the temperature, and implement a variety of stall tactics that only dragged out the feelings of discomfort, until one of my teammates would get out of the pool and threaten to just push me in.