Every Little (Empty) "I Love You"

start at the beginning

I watch my little Sam growing up before me.

We run.  We roll and tumble.  We build Lego towers.  We play cars.  We laugh.  Oh, how we laugh.  And I can't help myself.  I grab him up in my arms, squeeze him close, and the words pour out of me, "I love you!"  For if I don't say them, I just might explode . . .

We read.  We cuddle.  We fix uh ohs and boo boos.  Sometimes we cry.  And I pull him up in my arms, squeeze him close, and drop kisses on his head . . . "I love you!"  For if I don't say them, my heart might break.

Every "I love you" . . . so full.

I once read somewhere that for every negative action/statement between intimate partners, it takes seven positive actions/statements to counteract . . .  In my relationship the scales are way off balance, heavily on the negative side . . .

And when the negative comments get to me, as I sit in pain, I hear:

     "I don't care about your feelings, I just care about _____."

     "Stop crying.  Your tears don't do anything for me."

     "You need to quit being so sensitive."

     "You should just suck it up and take it.  Just do it."

Oh, how many times have I heard this and more . . .

But, over time, I suppose, I've complied . . .  I cry less now.  I'm not as sensitive.  I take what he dishes - most of the time.  I just do it.  Feelings?  I don't share my feelings . . . at least not often, and I usually regret it when I do.

Occasionally he's made the comment that I look dead . . .  Perceptive I suppose, since in many ways that's what is happening.  For as I have became more callous and the tears have stopped falling, I have slowly been dying inside.  As I have felt less of the negative, I have felt less of the positive, until now I often feel nothing.

Hugs, kisses, Hello, Goodbye . . . Nothing.  Just motions.  Actions.  Those things we do . . .

And every little, "I love you."  Empty.  Obligatory words as we say goodbye or in response to the same three words . . .  Words that once warmed my heart but now just leave me cold.

And as "I love you" passes my lips, I can't help but wonder if it sounds as empty in his ears as it feels in my heart . . .

Now, when the tears occasionally find their way to my eyes, it's no longer so much about the pain . . .  I feel more like I'm mourning what I've lost . . . for I long to feel something . . .

For now, every empty "I love you" shared with him just makes me feel more distant . . . more removed . . . more numb . . . more empty . . .

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