There Are So Many Things I Want To Do

(Other Than Just Be In Love With You)

Image by mskathrynne from Pixabay

To The Man I Love,

I’m not writing to hurt you. I’m asking and longing for you still to want me, even if I tell you I want more than just you and me. I don’t want you to be my entire world. I don’t want to say I can’t imagine living without you, I don’t want you to understand me better than I understand myself. I don’t want to give you my heart and soul. I don’t want a better half.

There are so many things I want to be, other than just a part of you and me.

I want to remain whole.

I didn’t expect to meet you when I did — I already had one foot out of the door, following dreams and projects calling me elsewhere. I was excited about leaving Paris and meeting new people and doing new things. Of course, everyone knows that timing is a joke the universe is making at our expense. So I let her laugh, and I put everything on pause, I gave us time to sweep each other off our feet, I let love take over our lives.

I’m a romantic. I believe in unbreakable love, that can weather storms and fights and all the accidents of life. I believe that this love that feels like magic really does have superpowers. I love the hugs and kisses and roses and late nights talking. I love the crinkle of your eyes and the sound of your laughter, and how weird you are, in the most wonderful way.

But now, I need to turn some of my energy and love to other things. I have a million things that I want to do, and loving you is one of them, but it can’t make up for all the others.

The problem with love is that it outweighs everything, and not just in a love-conquers-all sort of way, but also in that it is what society is telling us to do. I mean, films that are about romance are classed as “Chick Flicks.” Getting a guy and having babies is supposed to be the endgame of a woman’s life. It’s what fairytales led us to expect. Women that stay single are “Spinsters,” to be pitied and marginalised.

When I was growing up, my older sisters always wanted our games to contain love stories, between our dolls, or between us and our imaginary husbands, Mr. Jessica, Mr. Juliet, and Mr. Eloise. I always used to nag for us to play something less…