Love is a verb

It seems (from my last entry) that the blogosphere likes happy stories. And we do want to keep the blogosphere happy, don't we boys and girls?

Last night B. and I attended (and unmasked ourselves to a reader of this blog, Robin, who will now get a shout-out from me) the baby-naming of my friend Rina and David. Rina and I met when we were in the same Ulpan class 2.5 years ago, right after we made aliyah.

At the time, Rina was dating this drudge of a guy (I was going to use the word "man" but that would be a misnomer) and wondering where it all would lead. Needless to say, we, her friends, were thrilled to bits when she and the drudge broke up, and in short time she met David, an all-around wonderful guy, who complements Rina perfectly. They married shortly after meeting, and began a family pretty soon thereafter. It was indeed a beautiful thing to see them bring a perfect little girl into the world. In fact, since Rina gave birth in my hospital, I got the distinction of being the baby's first visitor, a few hours after she was born.

I also got to see some Ulpan friends I haven't seen in a while, and got to introduce them to B.

You know how there are some people, whom you really like, but they're not your friends? They're friends of friends, whom you are always really excited to see at parties and birthdays at that mutual friend's house. Does anyone else have "friends" like this, or am I the only one?

Anyway, a while ago, I was talking to one of these "friends" at a party, back when B. and I were only about a month old - hard to believe its almost 3 months, eh? Anyway, I was telling this woman, Yael, about how when I first started dating B. I kept thinking, "Where's the drama? Where's the tears and fighting?" I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop....the big "issues" to arise. I was worried that if we had no drama, perhaps we had no chemistry. Perhaps I didn't really care about B.

Yael laughed at me and said, "No, hon. What you've got is a healthy relationship!" I never had one before, I didn't know it could be so easy. B. and I disagree (and its usually my stubbornness vs. his reasonableness), but we don't fight. And I'm not saying everything is easy as pie, but its not hard. Not the way I used to think love was supposed to be.

This girl in my nursing school class got engaged this week. She's 20 years old, and has been dating the guy for 1 month. I thought she was nuts, until I talked to her. And she said eacrly the same thing to me about her fiance, that I have said to people about B.:

I can't remember ever having loved anyone else. I mean, I know I did, I was there, and I've got the postings to prove it. But I can't conjure up the remembrances of the feelings (I know this is obstruse, but stay with me folks). I can't remember the emotions. I remember feeling bad about myself, feeling unworthy, but I can't remember feeling love. It feels like I've never dated anyone before B., and that I will never date anyone else. I don't feel head-over-heels in love...I just feel love. I simultaneously love B. and am in love with him.

I know this posting will jump up and bite me in the behind someday, and that I promised I wouldn't blog about B. too much. But he's become a pretty huge part of my life in the past few months. He doesn't read this blog, and he says he doesn't want to, mostly because it would make him uncomfortable reading about himself.

Anyway, Rina and David's celebration got me thinking that about my own love life, and that love shouldn't be hard. I'm not saying it should be easy...a good relationship or marriage certainly requires plenty of maintenance and elbow grease. I believe that love is a verb. It's something you do. It's not a noun - a state of being. Love, I believe now, is a two-way street. Its not about expectations and what someone else can do for me, or how much I can do for somenoe else, knowing full well it won't ever be reciprocated. Its about what I can do for this person, to make them feel loved.

I can chart my life by the way I have spent my New Years' Eves. I can count back to 1994, and tell you who I was with and what I did.

This year, it being a Friday night, B. and I were simply chilling in my apartment, as the clock struck midnight. And as it did, I realized that what i thought would never happen, actually did. Not only does someone love me as I am, he loves me for who I am. B. actually loves me because of my weirdnesses, not despite them!

This post is getting sappy, and I have no clear way to end it right now. I'll leave it as a work in progress, and you'll all forgive me and indulge my sappiness.