Olive Juice

Last night Marny told me she loved me. I was pretty freaked out.

I feel like I started this whole Project to improve my life, pop the bubble of isolation, make friends, and connect with the world. And in two short months I’ve made huge strides. I’ve got a guy in my apartment complex I hang out with. Taken steps to meet Elevator Girl. Hell, I’ve got a roommate coming in a few days!

But when I look back on that post where I talked about wanting a girlfriend, I feel like I was looking for something else. I like Marny. Don’t get me wrong. But we just don’t connect on some deeper level. It’s weird when you’re in a relationship and you think the other person is feeling the same thing you’re feeling only to find out that their experience has been completely different.

She loves me? Seriously? I thought she was joking when she said it. (Don’t worry, I didn’t laugh or anything.) How could she have those feelings for me when mine for her are so pedestrian?

Then it occurred to me that just as people have subjective interpretations of the relationship, maybe people just have subjective definitions of love. Maybe what I consider love is a totally foreign concept to Marny, a fantasy of lame romantic comedies and Renaissance poetry. Maybe her life experience has just made her more practical and she settles for what’s in the realm of possibility.

Or maybe Marny is just needy and was hoping I’d say “I love you, too.”

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