Making love is an inaccurate term. Contrary to popular belief, love isn't manufactured in times of physical nakedness.
Love comes when people get emotionally naked with each other and share their souls. It happens when two people become vulnerable with each other. They create a safe, trusting space to become one in spirit, and each person's sense of loyalty allows them to keep the other's sensitive information under lock and key.
The more I think about what the problem was with New Boo, I realize we never made love. We had sex and I loved him. I can't say for sure that he loved me, but I know together we didn't have the kind of sustaining love we needed to make it last.
I was willing to bare my soul to him and I did. He made it seem like the space was safe. He shared things with me, too, but he was never vulnerable to me. And he never reciprocated the love I gave to him.
During our first few blissful months, I remember feeling that he wasn't as affectionate with me as he wanted me to be with him. I wanted him to touch me like I touched him. I think I told him about it, but it never really changed.
Here's what's funny to me. One of his homeboys is getting married this weekend. The guy met the girl through his brother, and they talked via Skype for a couple of months. When he went home, he met the girl in person and within two weeks, he had proposed.
New Boo was like, "There's no way those two are getting married. He doesn't know her well enough." He lied to get out of being the guy's best man, and he was convinced that it wasn't gonna happen. He just knew that we'd tied the knot before they did.
Now look at us. He saw me every day and he decided that I wasn't worth it. And he knew how much I loved him.
Again...they clearly were making love -- even long-distance. We slept in the same bed every night and couldn't get it right.