(4) “I love you.”
Classical Sass
62

I have some friends who always, always say “I love you” when we leave. The first time I was kind of taken aback. The first couple times, really. Ok, still, and it’s been at least a year of it. We’ve been friends for, oh, eight or nine years, but the “I love you” thing…

That’s new.

So. I want to say I love you, but it makes me feel squidgy and vulnerable.

Because “I love you” means that the boundary between me and you is blurred, that there is some of me in you; that there is some of you in me. Because “I love you” means that there is some part of us that transcends time and space, that even across distances and over weeks and months, I still care about you almost much as I care about myself, and it’s hard enough to care about me, and I’m here — caring beyond time and distance makes me feel powerless and somehow more alone. Because “I love you” (to me, at least), means that we are connected, always, in this life and the next.

I know not everyone thinks of these three little words this way, and maybe they’re more cavalier about tossing it around. But…when it’s there, I think it’s important to say it.

It’s a big thing to say and a bigger thing, sometimes, to hear. But imagine if we said it more? Connections, yo. All of ‘em.