At  38 years old, I’m no stranger to love. Not sure we’ve always been friends, but we know each other well. I’ve loved and lost. I’ve dated some nice men and some abominable creatures also. Some have been more memorable than others but all have taught me a lesson and helped me learn more about myself.

I had my first crush when I was 6 years old and in the first grade. His name was Tony and he lived a few houses up the street from me on Lafayette Street. My mom wouldn’t let us play outside alone but sometimes, when we sat out on the front porch with her, I’d ask her to let me walk to the yellow fire hydrant and back. She’d allow me and I’d do so with hopes of catching a glimpse of Tony and his two older brothers playing in their fenced front yard. My 6 year old heart thought I loved him. He, on the other hand, didn’t know I existed. Thirty two years later, we’re friends on Facebook. I can’t help but giggle inside when he leaves complimentary comments on my pictures. Thank you, Tony, you make my 6 year old self happy.

As my best friend can surely attest, I’ve thought I loved my fair share of men. The funny Greek kid who was my first kiss on my 15th birthday. My high school love with the funny glasses and Color Me Badd goatee. His cousin, who was my rebound and dedicated Toni Braxton’s “Unbreak My Heart”  to me when I broke up with him. The older guy from work. The sexy dancer from the Bronx who asked for a malta at the Greek diner. The judgemental investment banker. The salsa singer. The lawyer. The republican guy from the old neighborhood with a license to carry. The younger guy. At some point or another, I thought I loved each and every one of them…but did I? Like, how do you know you really love someone? Do you get an email alert? Do you hear bells or dings when they’re around? How do you trust your feelings? Dopamine effect? Lust? How do you know it’s real?

The man in my life asked me why I love him a few nights ago. I was asleep when he called but I don’t mind waking up to take his late night calls. I love hearing his voice before bed. How could I answer this question? There is no simple answer. I’ve asked myself this question thousands of times, especially when I’m upset with him. But, how can I convey how I feel in words? How can I make him understand the intense reality of my feelings and devotion? Love for me is not a thing of words which is why I resist the urge to tell him I love him every time we hang up. Love to me is a thing of constant action and I try my best to be consistent with mine. I told him I love him because I love his story. I’m not sure he understood what I meant, though. I won’t pretend to be the authority on love; I am just as confused and mystified by it like the rest of you. I don’t have all the answers, but I have my answers. Why do I love him? How do I know I love him? Here’s why:

I’m Proud of Him: Whether he kicked ass in a meeting, played a great round of golf, or put together an awesome outfit, I’m proud. I want to brag to everyone about him. If I could, I’d tell you all how amazing, smart, strong, and handsome he is – about twenty times a day. I love his story, I’m proud of his unbridled drive, determination, and courage. I admire him; I admire him for not allowing his station at birth keep him from achieving his goals. I am proud of his audacity of hope (thanks, Barry). I’m proud of his kindness and fairness, his need to respect everyone, regardless of their circumstance.

I Respect Him:  For women, this is tricky.  Sometimes, you can love a man but not respect him. This is a recipe for disaster. If you don’t respect him, you will emasculate and not value him, his efforts, judgment, or opinions. I respect him as a man and would never make him feel any less than that. Call me old fashioned or naïve (sorry, Gloria Steinem) but he wears the figurative pants and I’m perfectly fine with this.

I Trust Him: I trust he has my best interest at heart. I trust he protects me and would come to my rescue if I was ever in peril. I trust he would not purposely put me in a situation in which I would be harmed, hurt, or embarrassed. My trust for him has nothing to do with fidelity; I do not trust his penis (he’s a complete different entity).

I Believe In Him: This doesn’t mean I believe everything that comes out of his mouth. People lie, everyone lies at some point or another. What I mean is, I believe in his dreams. I believe he can and will achieve everything he sets his sights on. If I were a betting woman, I would put my money on him. He will always win. Always.

Companionship: I genuinely enjoy his company. Whether we’re delayed and people watching at an airport, waiting for a tow truck, or having a meal, it’s always better when I’m with him. I love that I don’t have to compromise my idea of a good time for him. I love that when I compromise, it doesn’t feel like I’m losing. I love the variety, versatility, and ease of our conversations and general state of being. I love that we can be relentless, unapologetic fatties without fear of judgement. I love that I finally found someone who understands and accepts the complexity of who I am.

Happiness: His happiness is my greatest reward. Again, Gloria Steinem would smack me in the face if she read this but, I love to take care of him. I love him because he respects my need to do so. In doing so, I feel fulfilled and happy as a woman. I can’t call these actions a sacrifice because it doesn’t feel that way to me. I just know that when I do nice things for him, I do them because I want to make him happy and I do not expect anything in return. This is entirely a new concept for me; he (or my love for him) makes me selfless.

I Want To Protect Him: I worry about him. I pray every day is a good day for him. I worry about what he eats and doesn’t eat. I worry about him driving in bad weather and his health. When I don’t hear from him, I worry. Not because I think he’s sticking his penis somewhere (insert chuckle) but rather because what if something happened to him? I want to protect him from people that can cause him any kind of hurt or disappointment. I just realized I sound like my mom. Anyway…

Desire: He’s my favorite and best lover. I’ll spare you the steamy details and simply say that anatomically, we both joke we were custom made for one another (and I want to tattoo his name on my…)

…and those are my reasons. Obviously, there are more, the small beautiful details about him that make my heart want to burst with joy but I’ll save those for another blog post. I don’t know what the future holds, but I wish to feel this for him, forever. I’ve never felt this before for anyone and when I look at him, hair messy, laying on my couch, laughing, I can honestly say I understand why it never worked out with anyone else – and at that very moment, my atheist self believes there is a God.

I love you, babe…way past forever, in this lifetime and the next, and the next, and next…