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Early on in a relationship, you spend much of your time trying to determine what this other person is all about.  You examine them closely – the way they talk, what they like to eat, the gestures they make when they’re excited, the faces they make when they’re upset.  You listen closely to the words they speak, even closer when those words are spoken quietly, only to you, in a place where no one else exists.

I remember the night vividly.  The bass thumping so hard it reverberated in my stomach and the music blaring equally loud in both of my ears.  The drinks, the dancing, and feeling like no one else in the club even existed.  I remember the room – covered, wall to wall in people swaying, jumping, moving to the beat of the songs and us, with some friends, crowded near the bar, dancing and drinking and smiling.  She grabbed me by my waist and kissed my cheek before saying in my ear,

I love you more than I want to.

I gave her a look – not knowing how to understand or make sense of what was said.  Did this mean she didn’t want to love me?  Or just not as much as she did?  How could you ever not want to love someone as much as you do?

An overthinker, I am.

I mulled over (and over) the phrase until it no longer sounded like anything good or bad, just something.  Something said over very strong drinks – drinks that often illicit overwhelming emotion forth without the usual filter that falls somewhere between the tongue and the heart. 

It wasn’t until months (maybe years) later til I understood exactly and precisely what she meant.  It wasn’t about not wanting to love – but not wanting to love without any control or possibility of ever returning to a place where you didn’t love.  I’ve come to understand that there are different ways to love someone.  You can fall in love and have your heartbroken and in time come to realize that that person only held a tiny piece of your heart – one that you never fully gave them anyway.  You couldn’t – it just wasn’t right.  And then one day, you find yourself more in love than you thought humanly possible.  To the point that your heart is no longer recognizable to anyone but them, to the extent that could never be described in words and so fully that your heart almost leaps out of your chest at its weight, its magnitude.  It’s a love that you know could rip you in two if anything were to happen to it, one that walks a fine line of being the best thing you’ve ever known and the most dangerous thing you’ve ever felt.

And then those words – I love you more than I want to – become more understandable than ever before.