She Loves Me Not

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not, She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not! It's always nice to be told that someone loves you, right?

Recently whilst travailing on the train I was forced to cower in the corner with my face firmly hidden in a fellow commuters shoulder. The reason for my sudden attack of shyness was due to spotting a girl who I had drunkenly declared my love for about four years ago.

Had I been in love with her? No, of course not, at the time I was about to embark on a trip to Australia and wanted to have one last bit of slap and tickle before I left. I mistakenly assumed declaring my undying love to the girl would send her running into my arms, it didn’t, there was running involved, but sadly in the wrong direction.

This recent encounter led me to think back to other times in my misguided youth (mid twenties) I had said those three words without actually meaning them. To my shame I worked out, I had told nine people I was in love with them, but only meant it three times. The three girls in question were a Norwegian, an American and against my better judgment a Ginger. Thankfully they all said it back to me.

The six times I said and didn’t meant it was either for sex or out of obligation.

She Loves Me Daisy

Sex
The girl on train I already mentioned, a straight girl I traveled around Thailand with and ‘Poor Louise’. ‘Poor Louise’ had been a very attractive Irish girl whom I had been seeing, she seemed to like me much more then I liked her but would not sleep with me until we became an official item, something I had no intention of doing. After several weeks of sexual frustration I declared my love to her in the hope that my grand gesture would persuade her to put out, which she did. Once I had gotten my wicked way with her I stopped seeing her. This was less to do with me being a cunt but more to do with the fact that she liked a bit of rough sex and actually broke my left nipple.

Obligation
"I love you" is a statement, so why does it sometimes feel like a question? I've always hated awkward silences and saying I love you back seems to be the best way to avoid any drama, although ultimately it just opens another can of worms.

After a quick calculation I worked out that the odds of me telling a girl I love her and actually meaning it is one in three, the odds aren’t very favorable I must admit. It’s also made me wonder out of the handful of people that told me they were in love with me, how many of them were lying? Looking back there is definite evidence that I could have been a ‘Poor Louise’ myself although in retrospect the only times I would care about would be the three girls who I actually did love.

The Norwegian broke up with me after three years and started going out with a guy within about a week, slightly dicey admittedly, but I will give her the benefit of the doubt by assuming she must have loved me at some point seeing as she put up with me for 3 years.

The Ginger was probably so grateful that I was willing to go anywhere near intimate ginger bits she would have had to have loved me.

The American well she is a yank after all and I’m an Arab, she probably only said it to me because she was scared that if she didn’t I would fly a plane into her house.

I guess I just need to have faith that there are some honest people out there and that the three girls mentioned were being as truthful as I was when I told them I loved them.

Remember, as the old saying goes, if you kiss enough frogs eventually you’re bound to find your prince/ess, similarly if you tell enough girls you love then, then sooner or later your fool one of them into sleeping with you!

Looking back have you ever told someone you loved them and not meant it? Have you ever struggled with the silence when someone says it to you and you can't say it back?