Scattered within all of these little stories I’m sharing with you, there is a ‘sub story’ about the progression and development of my love affair with my wife. The stories are in chronological order, intermittently published. I’ll begin this one here by telling you that this is the story about telling my girlfriend Kim, (now my wife), for the very first time that I loved her. I don’t know where the story will go. Even though this occurred almost 40 years ago, the memory is easy enough to share. It’s the background, the ‘noise’ if you will, that I think will take the longest for me to think through and document. Was I scared to say I love you? If so, why? How far back does it go? Am I needy, why did I always have a girlfriend, what was the reason? Why did I feel so certain that Kim was the one?
In our high school years, is there anything more stressful, more demanding or more public than our love lives? If you ‘go with someone’, everyone knows about it. Breakup; it’s buzzed from ear to ear in a rate equaling the speed of a Japanese bullet train. Today it’s even more public and faster; relationships begin at school, (or maybe Tinder if you’re older), they’re announced in Facebook, (sometimes with a “marriage”), and break ups are coordinated in Facebook so as to help the breakup end cordially, without additional drama. In my day, it was no less stressful, but the act of breaking up was not as immediate as it is today. Oh no – you got to see it coming, carefully stalking you like a cheetah on a gazelle and then when you knew that it was all over, BAM, your heart was suddenly being chewed on. Continue reading