rejected nytimes piece

on 12/18/08, i submitted the following piece to the nytimes modern love section. It was rejected. I was reviewing it today randomly and I realized that I don't even remember the guy I wrote about. I think it may be partly fictional..either that or my memory is a lot worse than I thought. It's interesting how I've changed (and not changed) as a writer...and as a person. These days - I say 'I love you' first even when I'm not sure how the other person feels. Those days, I was much more cautious. I can't decide which way is better. Feel free to read the below and give me your thoughts:

Kitchen Affections

I made salmon for the first boy I ever loved. There were no candles, no dimmed lighting, just me in the kitchen and him on a barstool eating and attempting to simultaneously study for finals. It was over fish and physics that I knew I loved him, and all I could do was hope that my grilled to perfection salmon would translate this fact.

Showing affection thru cooking and baking didn't stop with the salmon. I've made cookies for my crushes, politically correct cupcakes for my vegan brother, sugar-free cake for my diabetic grandmothers, blueberry muffins for my sweet-toothed father, and spicy enchiladas for my Mexican-craving mama. All in an effort to express my love, without having to particularly sit and awkwardly say the words.

The saying 'actions speak louder than words' became my motto, and with each squabble with a family member or quickened heartbeat amongst a man, there came a sweet or savory indulgence.

That's not to say that 'I love you' has never been spoken. In the 3 am haze, also known as '4 martinis on an empty stomach later', I've been known to scream 'I love you guys!' to the closest of friends as we dizzily eat corner deli pizza and aggravate the equally intoxicated bystanders by our girlish squeals and shrieks.

Family members and friends didn't seem to notice my hesitance, but lovers certainly did. When each 'you're so gorgeous', 'I really like you', and finally the highly anticipated 'I love you', was followed by a conscientious smile or a bright red color to completely cover my face, the likes and loves of my life slowly left for more verbally inept girls. My salmon-eating boyfriend was the first to go, and I was shocked that my well-marinated fish wasn't enough to make him stay.

I finally decided it was time open my mouth and communicate and the next man I felt anything for would be the lucky one to hear me say the words. When I met him, I felt an instantaneous attraction. In my personal experience, men to whom I am instantaneously attracted end up being very useless, wanting me only for the physical here and now, none of which constitute a relationship. But this man was different, and as we spent weeks discussing our similar love for swimming, reading, and Manhattan dining, I knew this was a lingering spark. I was smitten, perhaps not in love, but in the very serious 'like' stage of a blossoming relationship. So I went for it; my heart beating rapidly and my throat suddenly parched. As we walked along 1^st Avenue, our hands intertwined, talking about nothing in particularly, I interrupted and said quite forcefully, "You know…I'm starting to really like you." The pause that followed was just long enough for me to feel what all men past must have felt with my pauses. He smiled slowly and sarcastically said, "Wow. So emotional." I left him for my kitchen a few weeks later, the aromas of dark baking chocolate, pumpkin, tomatoes, and basil filling up my apartment and attempting to heal my heart.