My Second Love

The first time I fell in love was utterly disappointing. I don't really think I was ever in "love," at least not the real kind of enduring love. The kind of love that makes you care more about that person and their wellbeing and about how you can support them. No, this love was all about me and what I wanted from it. In the end, it festered and died as he had found someone else to fill the needs that I neglected to.

When I met Peter, I was not at a very good time in my life, although that's a story for another time. He was and is my saving grace that helped me get out of the situation I was so desperately trying to claw out of. I met him online, which although I'm slightly embarrassed to say, isn't so bad of a thing after all. It turns out we even went to the same university (although he has since graduated).

We met in person the same night. I remember it very well, as does he. I honestly believe this is Peter's favorite date we ever went on, but we haven't had many "real" dates anyway. I wore this green flannel with jeans and slip-on shoes and that has since become his favorite shirt of mine. I don't remember what he was wearing other than his motorcycle jacket and jeans.

It was at Sonic and we sat in my car and ate family-sized tater tots together. He wouldn't eat the last one insisting it was for me. I believe that it went uneaten because after he said this he went to kiss me. I backed away because I did not expect to be kissed; it was very embarrassing, and he tried to play it off. It went something like this:

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't think—"

"It's fine, I was only joking."

"No, you weren't," and I kissed him. His mouth tasted salty from the tater tots and was soft against mine. Kissing Peter made my mouth dry and my heart beat faster than anyone's heart ought to. In the front seat of my car, I found it quite difficult to keep my arm from going numb when kissing him but I didn't care because kissing him had brought out this part of me I didn't know existed.

We sat in my car for hours, only concluding our meeting in the wee hours of the morning. I did not fall in love with him that night, nor did I fall in love with him in the following weeks during which we met at night after classes had finished. I feel in love with Peter slowly, it crept up on me like age. One day you wake up and you realize you've fallen in love.

This month will be one year since that date. Much has changed since then, most of it not pertaining to our relationship. We are long distance now. We talk on snapchat every day. Most of our conversations are quite mundane really. We share our thoughts, talking about our day, and exchanging "I miss you's" all over the picture-sharing app.

When I see Peter, usually about once every month or every other month, he'll stay for a few days. We'll play video games together, make meals, take naps, and it's as if he never left my side in the first place. Peter talks in his sleep, and that is the only time he ever says he loves me.

Peter defines our relationship as friends with benefits. I disagree with his definition. It has not really affected our relationship really. I do not say I love him, although I'm sure he knows. He says he cares very deeply for me. Neither of us are seeing anyone else. I'm sure you see why I do not believe his definition fits best.

I love Peter, but I don't need him to love me back in order to love him.