I've never been one for words. I find it hard to express certain things verbally. When it comes to work, logic, or politics, I'm one of the most articulate people you will ever meet. But when it comes to telling someone how I feel about them, I get tongue tied and can't find the right thing to say. I can write about it all day long, or tell a friend how I feel about that special someone, but when it comes to telling the object of my affection, I become an unintelligible goofy girl. Maybe that's why I told Mr. Banker I loved him in the middle of the night half asleep.
The fact that I have trouble with words has always made me strongly value actions. Have you all heard of the 5 love languages?
Words of Affirmation
Acts of Service
I'm sure it is no surprise to anyone who knows me that I give and prefer to receive love via "Physical Touch". You can click that link above to take the quiz and find out yours. I very much express love through physical touch, and crave it as well. But I think I do the other things a lot also, it is just my personality to give to others.
During our time together, I felt sure that Mr. Banker loved me--I didn't think he knew it yet, but I had no doubt in my mind that he did. I thought his love language was quality time and physical touch. I just can't figure out how I could have been so wrong. Since I blocked him I haven't heard a peep from him. It makes me feel that he doesn't care, that I was nothing to him. The truth is, there is a part of me that thought blocking him would make him step up and be a man, and fix this. He messed this up! Not me. It was his job to fix it. The fact that he isn't tells me that I clearly didn't mean to him what I thought I did.
I just keep thinking back on these moments that made me believe he loved me, and wondering if it was an act, or if I misinterpreted them. I remember these little things and begin to cry.
This moment where he was so loving and physically affectionate in front of a friend of his.
The way he held me all night when he stayed over.
Decorating the Christmas tree together, and how I was going to do it without him but he asked me to wait so that we could do it together.
The Rhode Island shot glass that I pretended in front of him didn't make me a giddy little girl inside.
The night he came over after all of this started, and he cried when I said "I'm not angry with you, just disappointed in you".
I really thought all those things were love. I'm not sure I know how to tell when someone loves me anymore.