Don’t Say I Love You

I’m an affectionate person and I need to show that. One way is to say ‘I love you’ and although those three words are not enough I do say them rather a lot; so Mat suggested I not tell him I love him for twenty four hours. Unable to resist a challenge I agree to the experiment.

Immediately my chest burns, this hurts, I feel rejected. He doesn’t want me to say I love him therefore he doesn’t want my love. A couple of deep breaths and I tell myself that it’s simply that he knows I love him, that he doesn’t need me to say it. Still I don’t feel comfortable with this. I wonder how I’ll get through the day.

Less than an hour later and I realise the solution is to keep a record of how I feel, make a blog post of it in fact.

Bedtime brings an emotionally charged conversation. I go up to bed unable to prevent an “I love…” before I go. I cut it off but it is said. In my distress I understand why I needed to say it. To someone I love so dearly, when I am hurting, such an “I love you” is a plea for that love to be returned. A plea I cannot help but expect to go unanswered. And the more hopeless it feels the more I offer my love hoping it will win me affection, security and approval.

The morning routine felt odd and disjointed. I wanted to put it back on track but those three words, so much part of how I say goodbye to both Mat and Perrin, were forbidden. Still they slipped out once, unbidden, unwanted but suprised by them I could not give them the depth they deserved.
What a relief, in contrast, to say goodbye to Perrin, able to tell him freely how I felt. The words releasing me into a heartfelt hug and relaxed happiness.

Later on I sent Mat a loving text carefully worded to avoid that phrase. That was easy, I think maybe I can do this after all.
At lunchtime I made a deliberate decision to call him. Again it felt very odd signing off without saying ‘I love you’ but easier perhaps because I knew he knew that I was trying not to.

Coming home that evening and there was lots to do, lots to keep me busy and only a couple of moments when I would have liked to say those words. At least then the end was in sight.

When the twenty four hours was up I chose my moment and launched into a volley of ‘I love you’s with the delight of knowing the experiment was over.
Still it felt different. I had learnt that nothing bad happens if I don’t say it for a while. I realised that I enjoy saying it from choice but the defensive instances are actually unfulfilling.

I think I’m going to continue to try and say ‘I love you’ less. Unless of course I’m hurting my boy when I will tell him in all the ways he needs to hear.

Author: Caitlin

Geeky, kinky and poly. Discovering my Domme side. Sometimes NSFW and 18+.

One thought on “Don’t Say I Love You”

  1. The worry would have been that you thought that he didn’t WANT to hear it so often, whereas in fact the truth of the matter was that he didn’t NEED to hear it so often because he was so sure of it.
    But why give you any more stress over it? Tell him as often as you like, he’ll never reject it.
    sev xxx xxx

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