Everything I know about love

And feelings and situations.

A lot of my relationships have been entirely situational. I didn’t seek them, I didn’t pursue them, I just happened to be at the right place at the right time and they materialized out of thin air. People I never thought I would talk to, let alone see again, are now regular characters in my life playing crucial, plot-relevant roles. It’s weird to look back and think of the me that didn’t know them, but I think I’ve learned to see the beauty in how differently they came to be.

A lot of my childhood and teenage years consisted of asking to be loved. I remember arguing like a stern lawyer to prove to prospective friends that I was a worthy addition to their roster. I would practice my script in the shower and convince myself that rejection was never an option. Over the years, I won the case a couple of times and gained acquaintances that I swore would attend my wedding someday.

At some point down the road, I decided to stop arguing, drop the case and quit my career as a devoted litigator. And all of a sudden the friends were gone. Slowly, they started flickering and turning off like broken lightbulbs. Soon, I had a smaller list of wedding guests and a cramped hand from writing Christmas cards that would never be sent.

But my change in career paths had an advantage: I was no longer arguing my way into someone’s life, but I knew a good lawyer when I saw one. New people started trickling into my life, some were experts at selling themselves with discounts and one-time offers, and others were more like commuters waiting at my train stop but pleased to have a nice place to rest. And the beauty of meeting them in situations of pure chance and luck was that they all knew different ways to love.

I used to think that I knew what love was when I was 12. Then I swore I had found it again at 17. Then 18 rolled around and I told myself “This time, for sure.” At 21, I think I’m never going to finish getting to know love. It comes in tides with no real pattern and the wave varies from splash to tsunami in ways that cannot be predicted. One day it wears soccer jerseys, the next it fixes cars; one day it shares your passions, the next it teaches you new ways to see the world; one day it knows all your secrets, the next it has things never told to anyone before. 

The people in my life have come in many shapes of loving and I’ve learned from them how different everyone truly is. 

Some people have told me to not waste the word away, that “love” is too big a concept to throw around like a bag on your shoulder. Others wear it like flowers in their hair, distributed to everyone as they pass by — “I love you, take care,” “Goodnight, I love you,” “I love you, see you in class,” “I’m going to the bathroom, I love you.” Some people show it through complicated schemes like planned-out surprises and day-long dates. Others cook it in a warm meal or write it with your name in their journal. 

There truly is no one way to love. I think the trick now is figuring out what my way is. 

Sometimes, I let love consume a lot of me. It becomes me and I become whatever it needs me to be. I play whatever role it asks me to because I still hold the fear of lawyering my love away. Because those I once convinced I was lovable left me, so now I often fail to convince myself. 

But I’m trying, and I’m learning, and I think I’m growing. I hold more boundaries and hold myself accountable, I ask myself more often what I want from life, I accept as much as I demand and I forgive but don’t let sorry become an excuse.

Slowly but surely, I think I’m learning to let love introduce itself as many times as needed. It tends to give different names and ask for different terms of agreement. But I’m no longer arguing against it, now we sit on the same side of the stands.

A lot of my relationships are situational. They stop in the station for as long as they’re allowed to. They bring beautiful flowers for my gardens, a home-cooked meal for my kitchen table and an oil painting to decorate my walls. And when it’s time to go, I simply ask them to leave the door open behind them. I know we’re going to meet again.