Love Is...

When writing on my other blog about my relationship, I kept thinking about those "Love Is..." comics that used to be in the papers when I was growing up. For those of you that don't know what I'm talking about, they looked like this:

I never noticed that they were naked in the comic strips! 

This weekend, the boyfriend ran some errands with me and when we got to the gas station, he offered to pump my gas for me. This isn't the first time he's offered, and each time he asks me to turn the car off so he doesn't die. This time I finally blurted out that I'm not used to letting people do things for me. (It's very hard for me to accept someone's help when it's something that I can very easily do for myself.) He said, "That's what love is." Instantly my mind went to these little comic strip guys. That's why they're on here right now. 

This is the part I have a problem with. There have been many times that the boy has offered to help me do things or offered to do them for me. I've usually turned him down. I have a hard time letting people help me. I think he's started to realize this, and has sort of backed off on the offers to help. I keep telling him that I'm probably going to ask him to help me with things around the apartment. (Never committing to actually asking for help, but keeping the door open.) I appreciate that he is extremely patient with my serious control freak issues. If that's not love, then I don't know what is. 

For the record, love is watching the Oscars when someone has let you watch reality TV all weekend in an effort to truly work on those compromising skills that come in handy in every day life.