Buy Me Presents and Take Me on Adventures.

"Have you ever heard of the Five Love Languages?"

I ask Book Boyfriend one day while sprinkling sumac on his rice. (Sumac on rice is really good, by the way. You should try it.)

“I think so, but I don’t remember what they are. Remind me.”

He is wearing a pale blue shirt today. I love when he wears this shirt. Blue makes his olive toned skin look even darker. The shirt hugs his biceps as I watch him cut vegetables for dinner. I am distracted for a moment as my eyes take him in.

“Umm yeah. There are five of them,” I blurt out, sounding like an idiot. (Duh, Amber. Of course there are five. You just said that.)

I list them off and explain what each one means.

“What’s yours?” he asks.

“Well obviously I like them all, but my favorite is gift giving,” I say.

I go on to explain that I think this one is misunderstood. It is not just that I love getting presents. It is deeper than that. It does not have to be expensive or even cost money. It could be as simple as a Post it note on my dresser that says, "you’re pretty."

It is not really the gift. It is the thought behind it.

You thought about me when I was not with you.

Beyond that, you see me. You are listening to me and trying to understand me. For example, I mention in passing that the strap on my purse broke and someone buys me a new purse. You heard me. It mattered. And even when I was not with you, you thought to do something kind for me.

“Hm.”

He nods and gets back to work cutting vegetables while I get back to work watching his arm muscles flex slightly with each slice.

A few days later he hands me a small box. Inside is a bookmark.

“I noticed you have been using receipts and scrap paper instead of an actual bookmark recently,” he says. “I thought you might like this.”

I told him I loved him once, and he never said it back.

I don't know. Maybe in a way, he did.

In the months that followed, I received a mug. AirPods. Shoes. A giant teddy bear. Jewelry. Heart shaped rocks he found on the beach. Candles. He even helped PJ pick out a Mother’s Day gift for me.

Yeah. Maybe he did say it back.

"I'm scared! Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

“You are going to be fine,” Book Boyfriend chuckles as I grip his arm tighter.

We are in the middle of the woods at night. It is pitch black. I can barely see him and I am holding on for dear life. A branch snaps.

“What was that?” I squeeze his arm tighter.

“Come here.”

He throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest. We are so close now I can feel his breath on my neck.

The evening started with us lying on the couch bored. We did not feel like a bar or the movies. We were sick of the usual spots.

“We could go bowling?” I suggest.

This has become an inside joke at this point. I always ask. He always stares at me like we're not doing that.

"Fine! What's your great idea?" I say, defeated.

Earlier he had received night vision glasses in the mail and went into the backyard to test them out.

“I kind of want to go somewhere darker and see how they work,” he says, glasses still on his face, looking both adorable and absurd.

And that is how our Friday night activity was born. A moonlit hike.

The glasses worked surprisingly well.

I was still terrified.

My fear intensified when we realized the sound was a coyote. We took turns looking through the glasses. He was mesmerized. I was panicking.

We slowly began exiting the woods only to realize the coyote was following us. Even when we reached the edge, it was still there.

He turns to look at it.

“I found a ball. Do you think it would play fetch?”

For the first time ever, I am speechless with this man. I stare at him for a solid sixty seconds.

“Nope. Not going to die like this,” I declare, turning and running.

I am greeted by laughter and heavier footsteps behind me.

“You are insane,” I yell.

He laughs louder.

Soon we are both running and laughing all the way home.

He collapses onto the couch.

“That’s just us, Amber,” he says. “You are smart. You run away from things that might hurt you. I try to play fetch with them. I'm just trying to feel alive."

I giggle and join him, resting my head on his lap, silently asking him to play with my hair. His fingers find my scalp and I let out a slow breath.

Content.

Happy.

If only we both knew then that he had it backward.

I was not running from the thing that would hurt me at all.

A blur of normal moments that felt magical

My time with Book Boyfriend was made of nights like these. He brought me flowers and I rubbed his feet. We cooked dinner together. I handled the rice and he made the best chicken.

We had adventures. Day trips to cider mills and a weekend in Newport. We watched every John Wick movie, never without popcorn or homemade protein ice cream. (We perfected the recipe after he bought me an ice cream maker for Christmas.)

Summer walks. Our favorite spot by the fireplace at a coffee shop in town. I taught him how to play UNO. He taught me how to check the battery in my car. We drove each other to the airport when we traveled. We decorated the yard with giant inflatables to surprise PJ at Christmas.

He took me to the best Persian restaurant in New York City. I took him to Bass Pro Shops. We bought matching hats and wore them all night.

His mom bought me a jar of honey. My mom bought him a cup for blending protein shakes. He took me to a haunted house on my birthday and I faced a fear I had carried since childhood.

I made him an advent calendar for Christmas. Twenty five gifts personalized just for him. Love notes. Cologne. Gift cards.

Life together was simple.

And it was good.

For me, there was magic in the normalcy of it all. Wonder in the comfortability.

I can't sleep.

Life is good, but something keeps me awake at night. I have him, but I also don't.

It always felt that way with Book Boyfriend. He let me see him, but not fully. I was allowed certain pieces, not all of them.

Lately, something feels off, even though everything still looks like love.

He's acting strange...