There are all kinds of words that are difficult to say, and hear. “You’re fired” and “I’m pregnant” come to mind. But right up there are “I love you.” Said at the right time by the right person, they’re music. At the wrong time by the wrong person, they’re nails on a chalk board.
Luke went dancing every week and every week he danced with Mia. He was only “mildly attracted” to her. Until one night, when on the dance floor she told him how much she looked forward to seeing him every Thursday. She told him how it made her week go by faster. He realized he felt the same way. He told her so and they started dating.
“One afternoon, after concluding a routine little telephone conversation with her, the bells and fireworks went off in my brain,” Luke said. “I had the sudden, almost incapacitating realization that I was overwhelmingly in love, now and forever, like never before in my life, and that this was the girl whom I was born to marry, live my life with and grow old with. And in my joy, I lost no time in telling her so.”
Uh-oh.
Mia wasn’t prepared to hear the words “I love you.” She wasn’t ready for them. Her feelings weren’t as strong as Luke’s. The feelings, the emotions, the words scared her.
“She began withdrawing and putting distance between us. Distance I spent more than two years of my life trying to close,” Luke said. “But it was futile. I found that no matter what I tried, including backing off and giving her time, the more distant she became.”
So, Luke has learned his lesson. Every relationship moves at its own speed. One party can’t race ahead and expect the other party to catch up.
“Some people know the rules intuitively, most learn them in early dating experiences, and some of us only become aware of them after ruining our lives,” Luke said. “There are innumerable ways to destroy a budding relationship. But saying `I love you’ to someone who has not reached the same conclusion is one of the surest and most devastating.”
Jolie: “Terry was 10 years younger than me and my first relationship after my divorce. We originally dated for about five months, then he vanished for three months. After he reappeared, we began dating again. This time around he seemed more into the relationship and we both seemed to be on the same wavelength. One night at one of my favorite bars I tried to tell him that I loved him but couldn’t get the words out. I didn’t have to. He just looked at me and said, `I love you too.’ It was my movie moment, it was as if he had read my mind.
“Well, that’s where the movie ends because things took a dramatic turn after that night. Our relationship became strained and he began to pull away. A few weeks later we ended things.
“Once again, Terry has resurfaced. My head tells me to run away, fast; my heart says to give him another chance. I’m hoping I’m strong enough to listen to my head.”
Dennis: When I told Sophie I loved her, her reaction was simple: She bailed out! I wonder how many people experienced a similar fate. It’s hard for some of us to say those three little words. I’ve said it only once and meant it. Others use the phrase so often, its meaning becomes as trite as an overworked greeting like, `Have a good day.’ Some consider it as a ploy in the game of romance. So, when `I love you’ is uttered with sincerity and passion and the result is less than the anticipated, it hurts.”
Kristin: “We were at a party, and I inadvertently ended up under some mistletoe. I saw Chris looking at me from across the room with googly eyes. I knew he had had a few drinks. He slowly came over to me, kissed me and said, `I love you.’ It was the first time since we had been dating.
“Assuming it was the liquor talking, I said, `I enjoyed hearing that, but tell me again when you’re sober.’ I did not expect to hear it again anytime soon, but my phone rang early the next morning, and he said, `It’s 7 a.m. and I still love you.’ I’m proud to say I love him even more 10 years later.”
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When was the first time you said or heard, “I love you.” What did it do to your relationship? Send your tale, along with your relationship questions, to Cheryl Lavin, Tales from the Front, Chicago Tribune, 435 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, IL 60611, or e-mail clavin@tribune.com. All names are changed. Letters cannot be considered without name, address and day and evening phone numbers. Letters may be used in whole or in part for any purpose and become the property of the column. Read Tales from the Front every Sunday in Arts & Entertainment and Tuesday and Thursday in Tempo.
