A Love Story…

When you think you are in love, you only see the things you want to see. This is a story of being in love but with the wrong person.

Love, What Is It Good For?

This overused, underrated, materialistic word has lost its true meaning over time. Love is expressed in songs, poems, and even cute little teddy bears that make me sick at times. So much time and money is spent on expressing love that I’m not sure it even has a meaning. Love love love, even when it isn’t meant, it is said. Now that I’m actually in love, I have found the true meaning of it.

Love is achieved when a relationship has reached the highest level of comfort and compromise. I know it is love when I can talk about anything in front of my partner, like health concerns, such as the pain I have with my tonsils. I can talk about the embarrassing moments I have at school, like crying in class because I am overwhelmed with it. It is love when I am not afraid to do silly, little, gross things like burp and fart in front of them. I also don’t mind when they do the same in front of me. I know it is love when I let my guard down and give them control of the relationship. Making plans for dinner, buying tickets to concerts, or picking things we need for a trip. I don’t get mad when they buy the wrong items because at least they are willing to do these things. I know it is love when I can sit back and actually enjoy the time we spend together and not worry about when it will end and why. I don’t have to worry about anything, just being with them.

Love is more than just doing stuff with them. It is the encouragement they give me to succeed in school. Telling me school is more important than they are and to go study. Love is the support they give me when the world is crashing down around me — four papers, two tests, and a wedding in Chicago all in two weeks. Love is also the support I give them. I support their decision, “If you don’t like your job and the one you want is further away, we’ll make time for each other. Once I graduate, I can move to you.”

I also find that love is in what we give up for each other. They gave up their favorite TV shows, dinner with their parents, and even sleep, just to spend time with me. I gave up getting things done, like my car, moving into my house, and spending time with my family just so I wouldn’t be away from them for more than a few hours.

Love is compromise, support, and caring for another person. Love is the giggles, hugs, and kisses shared between people. Love is the trust and understanding. Love is wanting to be with someone who supports your needs in life, accepts you for you, and lets you return that support and acceptance. Love, overused, underrated, and materialistic, what is it good for, well, me?

What is this all about?

This is a story I wrote in college. I had just ended my very short marriage to a very miserable person. I ended up moving back home, somewhere I never wanted to return, and finding what I thought was a diamond in the rough. Now, to be honest, this is just about the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever wrote or done in regards to who I am. Reading it now, I can see all the red flags of this relationship. While this person was nothing like my ex-husband, he was equally as bad of a person.

The highest level of comfort and compromise.

In this part of the story, I was excited that this person did the bare minimum. After dating for two years and having moved in together, these minimums started to dwindle off. At some point, I would get excited if they would take the trash out that had been sitting on the floor for two weeks. I know it doesn’t seem like much but the amount of things I was taking care of in comparison to what they were doing was exponentially greater. So for them to go from doing the bare minimum to next to nothing, I got excited for anything, for any help. Comfort and compromise were not love in this situation. These were items to be taken advantage of and boy they were.

When I say take advantage of, I mean there was an excuse for everything. Reasons they couldn’t mow the yard, reasons for not making dinner, reasons for not taking out the trash. The best was that he worked part-time at a department store in the mall selling TVs and would get mad at me for not remembering to bring them dinner when I stayed at school longer to hang out with friends. To put that into perspective, I was at school most days from 8 am until 10 pm, with a 45-minute drive to and from.

It is encouragement.

Love can be found in the encouragement a partner gives you. However, in this relationship, it became a reason for guilt and jealousy. When I wanted to change what I was studying and might have to change schools, the encouragement turned to guilt. Them: “What am I going to do if you move across the state for school? I’m not going to be able to find a job. Where are we going to live and how will we afford it?” My solutions to these problems then led to jealousy. Them: “When I was playing football in high school, playing for Penn State was a dream of mine, I don’t know if I can go there and not be able to play football.” While I was killing myself to have a better life for both of us, they were focused on the past.

In the beginning, it is easy to encourage your partner to be better, to want more, and to reach for the stars. What’s hard is when one person starts to get those stars and becomes a better person if their partner isn’t as supportive, jealousy creeps in and you find yourself resentful. I had faced a lot at this point in my life. When I chose to get an art degree, no one supported me. Everyone said I was never going to make it. The person I was in “love” with gave backhanded encouragement. Them: “I want you to be happy and become a graphic designer but do you have to spend so much time at school?”

The things you give up.

You might think this is similar to compromise but it is not. A compromise is an agreement or a settlement of a dispute is reached by each side making concessions. Giving up things in this situation was one-sided. I know early on they gave up TV shows or dinner with their parents but those were more like compromises because we were both doing them so we could be with each other. I gave up things that would have possibly given me a better future just so their feelings weren’t hurt. I changed my life goals to make room for someone who had no room for me.

So what does all this have to do with art?

A lot! Had I stayed in this relationship, I would have never moved to Baltimore, and probably never became an artist. This person while not abusive like the ex-husband, was still abusive. The time I spent at school working on my projects was the only time I was happy in this relationship. It only took one semester of art school to realize this and when you finally find true love you won’t need to write silly stories about it.

So thank you cheesy ranch tortilla roll-up guy, without you I might not have become who I am today.

Enjoy some of the art I created during those first semesters of art school.