We humans have a way of speaking to one another in conventional ways. Someone says, “how are you?” and the other person responds, “I’m fine. How are you?” “Have a great day” is met with “you too.” “Good morning” is reciprocated in kind.

Someone once said that such pleasantries are grease for human relationships. They enable us to foster good will for one another.

I like to “I-love-you” the people I love. I say it to my children several times a day. When I drop them off at school, I say, “Have a good day. I love you!” When they go to bed, I say, “Sleep well, and I love you.”

My children know how to respond to me saying, “I love you.” They say, “I love you, too.”

“I love you, too.” It is such a simple thing to say.

I liked to say “I love you” to Ljubica, too. I would say it to her in her own language. (We always spoke her language.) I have to believe that once upon a time in our relationship, she, too, would reflexively respond to my “I love you” with “I love you, too.” It is difficult to recall times when this happened, however, because at some point she stopped saying “I love you” and “I love you, too.”

Instead, she would grunt. “I love you, Ljubica.” Grunt.

“I love you.”

Grunt.

“I love you.”

Grunt.

Once she told me to stop saying “I love you” to her. She said that the words “I love you” hurt her.

Sometimes she would respond to me saying “I love you” by saying “I don’t love you.”

“I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

I wanted to hear the words “I love you” from her. I almost never did.

But I kept saying “I love you.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Grunt. “I don’t love you.” Grunt. “Stop saying you love me.”

I told my therapist about it. He likened me to Charlie Brown in Peanuts. Lucy would put the football down for him to kick only to snatch it away at the last second so that Charlie would miss the ball and fall onto the ground. Charlie was surprised every time.

“I love you.” Bam.

My therapist asked me why I kept doing it. He suggested that I stop saying “I love you” to Ljubica for my own sanity. He wondered why I would keep saying “I love you” to Ljubica. Didn’t I know, he wondered, how she would respond?

Of course I did.

I knew.

Charlie maybe didn’t know what was in store for him, but I did. I always did.

“I love you.”

Grunt.

I told my therapist that I kept saying “I love you” to Ljubica in protest. It was my way of protesting her dismissal of my love. It was my way of protesting her lack of love for me. My “I love you” meant “I love you anyway” or “I love you even though….”

“…even though you treat me worse than you treat anyone else.”

“…even though you denigrate our marriage.”

“…even though you hate me.”

“…even though your behavior squeezes life out of my soul.”

“…even though…”

Ljubica, I loved you. I did. Even in protest.

No longer.