Ok, so last time I said I was going to comment on the great evening I had a while ago. So let's go:
I had a fair number of good conversations the other night (and they all circulated around one particular issue). First of all, one of them was one of the dishearteningly rare conversations - real conversations - that I have had with Zelda. To begin with (I don't remember exactly how we got there), I learned some of why our conversations are frustrating - she told me that (and, what's more, why) she finds me frustrating sometimes. As it turns out, it is somewhat circular; her false perceptions are driven by the way I respond to my own - which are by hers. In any case, I'm glad I understand, now. Now that I'm aware of it, I can prevent it in the future.
And I learned that she was in town last weekend, and wanted to see me - almost called me, even, but didn't and instead waited for me to appear online. Alas, I didn't. I'm very disappointed about that, but still I'm very, very happy that she wanted to see me.
This, however, is not the most significant happening of the evening.
As I was talking with her, she opened up some, and talked about some of the things that have been worrying her lately. I offered a sympathetic ear (or, at least, I hope through text it was as sympathetic as I was), and absolutely loved the fact that she was sharing with me. I wanted to comfort her. But I'm not sure how to do that. I'm not really sure of how to do it in person, so much - let alone online, when I have only text. No actions, no inflection; pure words. And I found myself wanting to say, "I love you." And I hated myself for it.
[02/03/2003 23:21:10] Kevin: Why do I want to say "I love you"?
[02/03/2003 23:21:19] Kevin: I don't know her well enough to love her.
[02/03/2003 23:21:28] Kevin: I'm attracted to her. For reasons I don't really understand I care for her.
[02/03/2003 23:22:29] Kevin: But I don't love her. There's no way I *could*, given that she is still barely more than an "amiable acquaintance" with whom I happen to be interested in more.
It didn't get much better as the night went on. Eventually, Alan appeared and I turned to him.
[02/04/2003 00:00:39] Kevin: Alan,
[02/04/2003 00:00:44] Kevin: I want comforting.
[02/04/2003 00:01:00] Alan: God loves you
[02/04/2003 00:01:08] Alan: and so do i
I love Alan; he's such a good friend, and what we have is wonderful. That was a welcome comfort. But beyond that, it was in a way inspiring.
[02/04/2003 00:02:03] Zelda: so i better be off
[02/04/2003 00:02:08] Kevin: All right.
[02/04/2003 00:02:16] Kevin: Be comforted.
[02/04/2003 00:02:20] Kevin: God loves you.
[02/04/2003 00:02:38] Kevin: ..and so do I.
[02/04/2003 00:02:52] Kevin: I suppose it may not count for much
[02/04/2003 00:03:52] Zelda: thank you, it means a lot
[02/04/2003 00:03:56] Zelda: good night
I'm really glad I said what I did. Because, at least within the "comforting" context, it was true.
And "it means a lot". *That* meant a lot, to me.
Later, I talked more with Alan about it.
[02/04/2003 00:33:41] Kevin: Under a certain context, I love her.
[02/04/2003 00:33:48] Kevin: Perhaps some beyond that context, even.
[02/04/2003 00:34:03] Kevin: But... I don't know.
[02/04/2003 00:34:08] Kevin: I have been afraid to say that.
[02/04/2003 00:34:20] Alan: you can love someone to the best of what you think love is, conceptually (which almost everyone admits they are still learning, or don't know), or you can love someone practically to the best of your ability
[02/04/2003 00:34:32] Kevin: And I'm not sure I would feel comfortable saying it in another (non-comforting) context.
[02/04/2003 00:34:37] Kevin: In fact, I'm sure I wouldn't be.
[02/04/2003 00:34:57] Alan: that has been a big revelation to me
[02/04/2003 00:35:07] Alan: the concept vs. practical
[02/04/2003 00:35:44] Kevin: I don't know how to love her practically.
[02/04/2003 00:37:16] Alan: i said, the best you know
[02/04/2003 00:39:14] Kevin: But that's nothing, at this point.
[02/04/2003 00:39:23] Kevin: Unless you count (circular as it is) my attempt tonight.
What Alan said to me came as a strike of revelation. It's true. I am loving her to the best of my ability. Which is, in a very real sense, love itself. It may not be incredibly strong; it may not hold up against a very difficult test. But, as little as it is, it is real - or it is at least a start.