How do We Define Love?

The following post was written November 20, 2009:

It's 10:30 and I really need some sleep (was up too late last night writing the post), but I've had something on my mind and want to get it off my chest. This seems like a great way to do that.

As I've been catching up with old friends, my mind has been drawn back to High School and a conversation I had with my dad. I... drove home one day and told him that I was in love. He kind of rolled his eyes and said, "You don't know what love is." What did he know? He didn't know my heart. I was really in love!! At least that's what I thought.

Fast forward to meeting my lovely wife Katie. The VERY first time I saw her, I knew we were going to get married. Don't ask me how or why--I just did. After we talked about it later, she had the exact same feeling as I did. Did that mean that I loved her? Of course not. It meant that I was at least infatuated with someone and wanted to see how it would progress. We got married shortly after that first encounter.

Life went pretty well for us the first few years of marriage. We were (still are) happy, there were no major health issues, no huge causes for concern (apart from the time I rolled the car because I wanted to hold her hand, but that's another story). All in all, life was good. But there was still this nagging feeling in the back of my head wondering if I REALLY loved her--you know, the kind of love that makes you want to absolutely live or die for somebody. Living in Logan, Utah and about three years into our marriage, I found out the answer to that question.

Katie had been having stomach pains for a few weeks. We went to the emergency room multiple times. One time the doctor blamed it on an upset stomach; another told her that her "movements" were stuck in the middle of her intestines. I think she was asked to drink that nuclear stuff that cleans out your system at least two or three times without success. After several days and weeks of frustration from these repeated doctor encounters, we finally found the "right" person. He performed an ultrasound and found a blood clot between her stomach and her intestine. This was a big problem. So big, in fact, they loaded her in an ambulance and took her to Salt Lake.

When I watched that ambulance drive away, it broke my heart (almost literally). I called my mom to apprise her of the situation and just broke down and bawled--couldn't talk for several minutes. I can't remember the last time I cried like that. That was when I knew without a doubt that I love my wife.

The funny thing about that kind of love is that you can't really describe it. For me, I love my wife but almost don't feel it. That sounds very strange, but here are the signs that tell me that I really love my Katie: You know you love the person because you can't stand being apart. You know you love the person because you don't know what life would be like without them (you can't imagine yourself without them). You know you love the person because when they are sick, a part of you is sick, too. You know you love the person because if that person were to ever pass on, a part of you would, too. You know you love the person because nobody else in the entire world knows you like they do, treats you like they do, and laughs at your lame jokes like they do.

So, I guess my question in this post is have you ever had a similar experience? Did you have a "moment" when you knew you loved your significant other, or have you just always known? I would be curious to know.