For years, I thought that ‘love’ was just the far end of the ‘like’ spectrum. If I was dating a girl and really enjoyed spending time with her, really liked her a lot, I would start to ask myself, “am I in love? Is this enough ‘like’ to push me all the way into ‘love’ territory?”

Then, about a year back, I fell in love. I mean, Love with a capital L. And I realized that ‘like’ and ‘love’ were two completely different things. Getting emails from this girl would knot my stomach. I’d lie awake at night thinking about her. Whole poems, whole songs worth of lyrics, suddenly seemed relevant and personal and amazingly true.

Six months later, due to age difference (she was reaching the point where we’d walk by a Baby Gap and she’d unconsciously veer towards the door) and geographic distance, we broke things off. Which, while sad, was the right thing to do.

But now, when I go out on a date, I’m looking for something completely different than I was before. Not a girl I really, really like. Not a girl I can try and convince myself could be the one if I would just stop being so selfish or commitment-phobic or whatever else. But a girl I could love. Really love.

Which, frankly, makes dating in New York rather tough. The Big Apple is a lonely city, one with an overwhelming singles scene that makes the comfort of ‘really, really like’ a hard thing to give up. Even if, in the search for Love with a capital L, it’s the right thing to do.