I Knew...

Late March of 2010, I performed a piece I had written in a showcase about love. Please read with an open heart and mind, as its a collection of stories of my own, and of my dearest friends.

I knew you loved me….

...when you showed up, and were consistent.

...when you took a picture of every significant place we had been during our first year together, then made an album out of those memories for our first anniversary.

...when we walked down the stairs of an elevated subway during a snowstorm. You made me hold your shoulder for balance, even though I had been through many a storm on my own. I knew right then, that I would never fall with you by my side.

I knew you loved me...

...when after one of our first dates, you stopped me in the middle of a busy downtown street, gently grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and then gave me the most smoldering, passionate, electric kiss of my life. Your reason? “Because you feel right”.

...when you baked me cookies. In red marker, you decorated the plate they were on with our initials in your horrible penmanship, and misshaped hearts.

...when we were trying to jumpstart my car, right before you connected the cable, you planted a kiss on my cheek, and said: "Just in case I die".

I knew you loved me...

….when you said my farts were more funny than gross.

...when you told me that you have to fall asleep with the lights on when I am not home.

..when you presented me to your friends and family with great care and great pride.. as your girl

I knew you loved me…

...when you stayed up all night writing 100 reasons why you loved me on tiny pieces of paper and hid them all over the house so that I could find them the next day. I had been feeling down, and you wanted me to know the many reasons why you thought I was special.

...when I woke up one morning and saw you sitting quietly on the floor, smoking your cigarette. You told me you didn’t want to disturb me, and you enjoyed looking at how peaceful and beautiful I was. I knew I loved you back when I wasn’t freaked out.

I knew that you were IN love with me, when you stopped having sex with me, and began to make love to me.

...when you started to follow my dreams as if they were your own.

...when I was angry with you one day, and in my frustration, I demolished the puzzle you had been working on. You cleared up the tears on my face before you cleared up the pieces on the floor.

I knew you loved me…

...when you were hurt that I was still sleeping with other people even though you hadn’t asked me to be exclusive. My bad.


You told me you loved me...

...but the next morning, instead of a cuddle, you gave me a “dap”?

...but when we reunited after months apart, we began make love. You looked deep into my eyes. I expected to hear how beautiful I was, or how much you had missed me. Instead, in your pompous British accent, you said: “sweetie, sometimes, don’t you think you were just perfectly made for fucking?

...but then you locked me out of your house with no shoes, no coat and no car keys in the middle of a fucking snow storm.

...But on the morning of your birthday, I came over to take you out to celebrate. Your apartment was empty. You had packed up your things and moved to Chicago, to be with another damn woman.

You told me you loved me…

...but the night I gave myself to you after years of being friends, you turned into an animal. I have never felt so brutalized.

...but in the same breath told me you couldn’t stand the sight of me naked. I’d gained a few pounds.

You told me you loved me…

...but when the person closest to me passed away, you weren’t there to hold my hand.

...but then we had our first argument. You raised your arm in the air as if to hit, but it was to intimidate. It would have been just the same if you had struck me down.
You told me you loved me…

...but one day you didn’t come over as planned. Thinking it was an error, or you had forgotten, I thought I’d come over and surprise you. Instead, I was the one that was surprised. I found another woman in your bed.


...but after 2 years together, I told you I was carrying your child. Instead of joy, you became enraged and told me the many ways I ruined your life. You, and your other children, have yet to meet the most precious little boy to walk this earth

You told me you loved me…

...but after coming home from celebrating my 30th Birthday, you became angry with me for no apparent reason. With one punch, you shattered my cheekbone. Our daughters heard my cries of pain and anguish in the next room.

...but you still haven’t come out to your friends and family.

...but when my gut (or angels) told me to check your email, I found craigslist replies to many women, several men, a handful of transsexuals. One reply was to a woman that had herpes, and you told her you had it as well. I didn’t think love meant checking my crotch for bumps and itching for 2 weeks, tests every 3 months, and praying. Lots and lots of praying.

You told you loved me…

...but the times that I needed your comfort and support most, you were nowhere to be found, conveniently surrounding yourself with bullshit excuses

I knew I loved myself more…

...when you were no longer the first thing I thought of when I woke up in the morning.

...when I stopped apologizing for my success in the face of your failures.

I knew I loved myself more…

...when we crossed paths on a busy Manhattan street. You started to say hello and walk towards me. I shook my head, put my palm in your face, turned away, and kept walking.

...when you told me you wanted to try and be separated. I immediately took the keys from you, handed you a bag, and sent you on your way. Now, you’re divorced.

I knew I loved myself more…

...when I changed the locks.

...when after many attempts to get you to leave me alone, you called me drunk one evening. And initiated phone sex. Ok, you wanted to play? After a minute or two of getting you excited, I hung up the phone, and turned it off. You got the point.

...when you found me on Facebook. After a few e-mails, you invited yourself over to my place. Instead of falling for the charm that I thought I once saw in you, I told you to fuck off.

I knew I loved myself more…

...when I packed myself and our daughters up, loaded a van, and left you without notice.

...when you called me one day out of nowhere, to say hello. Without hesitation or nostalgia, I told you I was with the love of my life. The lost nervous look on your face when I see you in public places? Priceless.

...when after many years of forgiving you, I gave you the last kiss, and I meant it.

I knew I loved myself more…

...when I could trust again, in bed.

...when I stopped hearing your voice in the middle of the night, telling me that no one will ever love me.

...when I had my son, and didn’t care anymore that you hadn’t called me, or hadn’t met him. We are better off without you, and much stronger on our own.

I knew I loved myself more…

...when I was happy with myself, by myself. I now knew that I was ready for the right love, the true soul love, the love that dreams are made of.

I knew I loved myself more…

...when I did.