I get asked a lot about my opinion on Facebook verses MySpace probably since I work with so many girls who use them. I’ve had accounts with both, but recently deleted my MySpace account because I feel like MySpace doesn’t have enough protection for minors and I just don’t want to support it.

And now, I will come off my social networking soapbox.

I do, however, have a slight obsession with my Facebook account, mainly the feature that allows you to update your status (which is probably why I like Twitter so much, too!). I update my status at least once a day and (shh, don’t tell!) use the program to keep track of my college girls by looking at their profiles to see what kind of nonsense they’ve been up to over the weekend.

Wow. That makes me sound like I’m 80. Next thing you know, I’ll be calling ‘em whippersnappers.

Girls, you have full permission to slap me if I ever call you that word.

Just don’t mess up my hair when you do it, please. I work hard to get that height each morning.

The one thing I really don’t like about Facebook is the fact that people can send you “invites” to join various “applications.” For the most part, these are the silliest things you’ve ever heard of, like a quiz that tells you what kind of vampire you’d be and stuff along those lines. I usually delete the invites without looking at them, but a new one caught my eye earlier today: a quiz that determines just how much you can love someone.

I didn’t take the quiz, but the title got me thinking: how much can I love someone?

The funny thing about being inexperienced in love is that, until the past eleven months of my life, I didn’t know my capability to love. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not claiming that I know how to love all that well. In fact, I’m not sure that the one I’ve loved would tell you that I loved him well. I wanted to, badly, but I’m not sure that I’ll ever really know whether I succeed or not.

Over the past few years, as I’ve gotten a true idea of just how many of my childhood experiences had the potential to stunt my ability to love, I started to worry that I wouldn’t be good at loving. It was a real fear of mine, the idea that I wouldn’t be able to properly love someone when the time came.

And that’s where the blessing from the last few months comes in.

In the midst of all the heartache from these dreaded mornings and sleepless nights, I’ve found that the answer to the question of how much you love someone sometimes isn’t discovered until everything you wanted is lost.

Did I love him when we were together? Well, yes. I’m sure I loved him then.

But that level of love was nothing compared to the way I’ve tried to love him since he’s been gone.

The first kind of love was confessed over the phone the night before the new year began when we were a plane ride away from each other and whispered on his doorstep when I came home. It was a sweet type of love, one that was here for the holidays but in danger of being gone before the snow had a chance to melt.

The second type of love, however, is completely different. This is the type of love that only God and my tear-drenched pillow have heard me ask for through sobs.

This love is patient, even when I want to give up praying for him.

This love is kind, even though it makes my heart hurt to admit that I haven’t always been kind to him.

This love doesn’t envy, even when it looks like he’s gone on with his life without hurting like I have.

This love doesn’t boast and isn’t proud, even when I want to make him and others think that I am incapable of hurting.

This love is not rude, even when it would be easier.

This love is not self-seeking, even though that would be easier, too.

This love is not easily angered, even when friends hand over cartons of eggs with a gleam in their eyes.

This love keeps no record of wrongs, even when I’ve got pen in hand, ready to make my list.

I have no shame in telling you that I’ve failed at each and every one of these over the last few months. He would tell you that I’ve been rude to him, that I haven’t been patient. We would both tell you that I’ve been rather self-seeking at times.

But I sure have gotten a lesson in loving unlike any one ever given to me before. And, just like the song promises, the next time I fall in love…

I’ll know better what to do.