What love should look like

I haven't told too many people, but there is a new boy rocking my world. He has re-educated me on the subject of love and its manifestations.

Sue was the first person to bring my awareness to what love looks like and how it is transmitted through the gaze. Before speaking with her, the information I'd collected from people's eyes had remained mostly unconscious. She explained that I would see love in people's eyes if I were open to it, adding that I could make incredible progress if I actually saw what was really in a look. I left our conversation thinking to myself, "Maybe I've never seen it. Or maybe I'm so used to love, I can imagine it where it isn't."

As it turned out, I did know where love wasn't, and I immediately stopped trying to convince a certain dude to commit to me. It was only after doing this that I realized I didn't even find him remotely attractive or charming. For once, I saw what was; the gaze was selfish and otherwise empty. I wasn't impressed, and the distance was easy to maintain.

So onto the new. We officially met a few weeks ago. He's been my neighbor for years, but we hadn't noticed each other until I commented on his adorable knitted hat. He didn't respond, just rode off on his bike. I hissed at myself, "Great. Scared another one."

To my surprise, he found me working in the garden the next day and started up a conversation. We discussed bicycles, music, and horticulture. He asked if I was a woman or a teenager.

"What do you think?" I answered, testing him.

"A teenager."

We were fast friends. He made plans to plant Russian Mammoth sunflowers with me. Each morning, often during that liminal space between sleeping and waking, he'd show up at my door with a triplicate of singsongy hellooooos and invite himself in to play guitar and feed catnip to Blake. When Luke witnessed our interaction for the first time, he found it achingly cute. The boy's roommates, however, were less impressed. He was calling my name in his sleep and was consequently told to back off.

Two Fridays ago, while I was preparing for my SF getaway, one of his roommates walked by and said, "You know, he looks into your window every time we pass by." That was sweet, I thought, as I returned to watering my wildflowers. Later, in the middle of my composting duties, I spotted him. After the space of two weeks, I spoke.

"Spencer..."

He was on his patio, swimming in his little pool. The cutest, most affectionate look alighted upon me. He held this gaze as if to say, "I did miss you terribly, but I've forgotten the heartbreak of your absence now that we are here again. You look beautiful. When do we plant our sunflowers?"

He sparkled with what I'll fondly dub obese love, though responding with a minimal hello. He's not always the most verbal creature. One of his roommates came out to alert him that dinner was ready. (His roommates, for the record, are his parents and two older brothers.)

It's amazing how much a single look can teach you, and, since Spencer is five, he is better able to transmit this etheric knowledge than most people my age. Children don't have the walls that adults do. There aren't years of hurt to excavate. They are present and respond to your presence. Being his first crush is not merely flattering; it is a blessing. If I am ever wondering what an admirer thinks of me, and I often am, I have only to recall that blushed, shimmery innocence of someone who clearly finds me fascinating, comparing this with the gaze of the suitor in question.

Another reminder of love's ease and simplicity showed up two days later, when my friend and I stopped by her local Kwik-E-Mart. The clerk's long-haired chihuahua pup quickly attached himself to me. He licked every part of my face and softly dug his paws into my shoulder blade, not wishing to let go. After thirty-eight licks, his owner became jealous and pried him off of me while feigning a smile. The puppy's purity and intensity is exactly the energy I am after. Nothing forced, nothing armored.

While children and animals aren't the most sought-after co-stars in Hollywood, I find they make delightful teachers. Other formidably cool single chicas can do like I do, and those of you in a relationship can do this as well: soak up and radiate the true love in this world that lies outside dating and marriage--friendship, flora, fauna, and beyond. We're less invested in conventional romantic payoffs when we keep the real stuff close at hand...and we're less invested in rules and results altogether when immersed in the romance of ourselves.

Turn yourself on,
margot