April 6, 2002
Thou Shall Not Make Me Cry
Entertain me a while, I'm waxing philosophical. And I got the title of this from a love song.)
This is one of my not so bitter opinion pages. This is more of a "Nethie's in an okay mood, and all's cool with me." (That and I'm not bitter early in the morning.) This is one of my speeches on romance, love, and the like.
A lot of people fall in love with a person's physical traits before anything else. Typically this along the lines of "He's got a cute butt" or, "I like the way her hair looks" or sometimes it just starts with a "Damn, that person's sexy." I know that's probably not what everyone wants you to believe, but unless you started a relationship over the Internet or through the mail (or any way that you could not see face to face at initial meeting), the first attraction is physical. Some people never get any further, some never start, some are mere fantasies.
After that, you get into the personality traits. Maybe it's the way he laughs. Or the way she smiles at you. Then you connect on a personal level. Not a very deep one, but one nevertheless. After that, you're on your own, I can't tell you what the next attraction or step is. There's sexual, spiritual (whatever type it may be), intellectual, et cetera ad nauseum. Take a pick.
But in my opinion, the best is when you reach comfort. Comfort is when you can just sit there and not talk, and still feel loved. It's when you wake up in the middle of the night and he's asleep, and you just sit there and watch him sleep until you fall back asleep. It's when he doesn't have to pull on the pressed jeans and nice polo shirt to impress you. It's when you see her blurry-eyed and pre-coffee, hair fuzzy and minus makeup, in a oversized t-shirt and panties checking her e-mail and think that's she's just as attractive as when she's in the bedroom in Victoria Secret's lingerie.
It's when you notice the little things that most people don't like. Like the way he might yawn and not cover his mouth. Or the way she just reaches down her bra to readjust/scratch her chest in public. Or when the bluntness comes in, such as the classic, "Gimme a tampon, I'm on my damn rag." When a guy can hear that and not cringe at the thought, that's comfort.
It's also the things you like--the little quirks. The way she tilts her head to one side and bites her bottom lip in thought. or the way he looks at you like you're the only person in the world. The way she purrs when you tickle her right behind the left ear. Or the ay he runs his lips down your neck while you're doing the dishes.
Her obsession with anything that has a rabbit on it. His amassing of any book written by Stephen King--good or not. The things that make you want to bang your head on the wall if this was any other person in the universe.
But you still love them anyways.
It's like being wrapped in a warm fuzzy blanket all the time
Comfort. The best part.