Striped Toe Socks

J really stepped in it last night. We were talking before bed about love and relationships. (I can't remember why now) He said that in every relationship one person loves the other more. In our case I love him more. Excuse me? Then he realized I had the pissed off voice and began backtracking. "It's not like it's 70/30, more like 49/51". Um, was this supposed to make me feel better? Then, "It's just that you're a more loving person". OK, this is true, I am more loving, compassionate and kind. He is an accurately self described emotional cripple. Shouldn't this make me more lovable, not less?
I understand what he is saying, I am more capable of love, his emotions are all locked up inside his cold dark outer shell. "I'm sure some days I love you more." He says. Yes, today for one, I mumble under my breath, loudly enough for him to hear. "Well, maybe it's time I should love you less," I tell him. I need to take back a few of those points. A love coup, a transfer of power to the next love regime.

But he's right.

I do love him more. I am more passionate, I love more fully, completely. I express everything in the context of how I feel about it. I rarely say I think this or that, it's always I feel. I go with my gut instinct. (After over thinking it in my own head) I love my friends and family with all of myself. Hell, I love Molly with all of myself. I don't half ass it.

I like it that way, I wouldn't trade it or change it. I wouldn't want to be in his head, where logic always rules. Not that logic has no place in the world, it has a big one. In order to strike balance though, it needs to walk hand in hand with emotion, with passion, with love. Love smooths logics sharp edge.

This morning when J left for work he took my face in his hands looked me in the eye, kissed me and I said "I love you". Yep, you love me 49%," I responded, "and I love you 51%".

I think he knows he still in trouble.