Tell Me That You Love Me

Love is a magical thing. It makes your heart race, your breath speed up, and paints a smile on your face.

But it's kinda hard to find. Like pointing out the tiny little diamond in a game of Pictureka. The only way to find it is to quit looking so hard. Just step back and take in the whole big picture. Then you'll realize it was right in front of you the whole entire time.

That's what happened to me. I'd known Johnny like, forever. But I'd never noticed him before, if that makes any sense. I'd never seen him as someone I could fall in love with. He was just the neighbor kid who came over to hang out all the time. We'd sit around in my living room, playing Guitar Hero or Call of Duty. Like buds. I'd never seen Johnny in a romantic light, and as far as I knew he'd never seen me that way, either.

Until he asked me out, that is.

And it wasn't in the traditional sense, like 'hey, you wanna go out with me?'. Nah. Johnny's way was far more sneaky. You see, Johnny and I were both obsessed with the band Pantera, so I thought nothing of Johnny's shy offer to teach me the bass parts to some of their songs.

I also didn't think about the fact that Johnny only had one bass, which was what was so damn sneaky about his tactic. I absolutely, completely sucked ass at anything that utilized my fingers. That's why I preferred drumming. So when I inevitably started fucking up every single lick that Johnny tried to teach me, Johnny was forced to wrap himself around me, my back pressed close against his front, so that he could help me with the fingerings.

I thought this was a little odd, but brushed it off. Cuz well, I kinda enjoyed that. Was that so wrong?

One day Johnny called me over to his house, saying he learned a new song to teach me. So I hurried straight over, anxious to know what this 'new song' could possibly be. I expected this to be like every other time. Ya know, Johnny would show me some unfathomably hard bass lick that he could play in his sleep, and I would totally fuck it up.

But this time was different. Johnny didn't even give me a chance to try it myself, instead he immediately wrapped his arms around my body and put his hands on his bass. And then he started singing softly, whispering the words right in my ear.

Tell me that you love me
Tell me that I take your breath away
And maybe if you take one more
Then I would know for sure
There's nothing left to say
Tell me that you love me anyway

This song was so sweet and romantic-y, it actually had my heart all fluttery. Wow. It was a wonderful song, sang very beautifully by my bestest friend, and I had to know who was responsible.

When Johnny told me he wrote that song, I was in disbelief. There was no way he was responsible for that song. No offense, but the boy didn't have a romantic bone in his whole damn body. But Johnny swore up one side and down the other that he wrote it, and I had no choice but to believe him. And then he did something else totally surprising.

He kissed me.

His lips were kinda soft and tasted like Jack Daniels, which didn't surprise me. My first instinct was to pull away. What person wouldn't if their best guy friend suddenly planted one on them with absolutely no warning? But I didn't. And it stunned me to realize why.

I liked this. Hell, I liked this a lot.

So Johnny and I started dating. We thought it would be short-term thing, cuz we thought we'd find it awkward to have a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship rather than a 'just friends' relationship. But our relationship outlasted even our rigid expectations. Johnny and I have currently been together for four years, and I think it's safe to say that I'm completely head-over-heels in love with this boy.

My favorite memory of our relationship is of this one day in July, about two years ago. It was pretty close to dusk, and Johnny and I were goofing around in this field-thingy near our houses. Being a photographer, I just happened to notice how the setting sun was making everything appear orange, and that was the perfect lighting for a romantic picture.

So I set up my tripod at the top of a small hill. I wanted to get further away from the camera, so I set the timer. But Johnny insisted that he wanted to help, so I told him to set the timer for one minute. That way we'd have enough time to choose a pose and what not.

After the camera was ready, Johnny took my hand and we started running across the field. We hadn't gotten very far away from the camera when I heard a click! from behind me. What the fuck? It hadn't been a minute yet! Why was the timer going off?

Well, when I allowed my clueless boyfriend to set the timer, he mistakenly set it for ten seconds instead of one minutes. Don't have a clue how he got the two mixed up, but I'm glad he did. The picture turned out better than I could have ever imagined.

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After everything that's happened in the past four years, I'm really glad Johnny played that sneaky little trick on me. Because if he hadn't, I never would've learned what love really is.