Day Three Hundred and Seventy One - Into The Silence

No matter how loud the world around me gets, or how many different directions I feel pulled, when I have peace, it is quiet inside. And when it's quiet inside, I can hear myself. And more importantly, I can hear God. 

Right now, my life is pretty loud. I feel stretched pretty thin. But I'm also pretty thankful. And inside, it's as quiet as the hush after a heavy snow. I feel like I can hear the smallest whisper inside. And because of everything that has happened in the past few months, I know exactly who I am. And not a clue where I'm going. And I'm totally okay with that because at this very moment, I am genuinely happy. Not only with my life, but with me. I am proud of me. I like me. And without guilt or insecurity constantly screaming at me, I can enjoy the silence. And into the silence... I can speak. I can praise. I can breathe. I can enjoy everything that life has to offer. Good food. The pride of doing all you can to do the best you can. The best friends I could ever ask for. A warm bed. A full belly. And enough reading material to fill a year. 

In the silence, every blessing becomes more apparent. In the silence, it's easier to know what to do and where to go. In the silence... I'm not worried about a single thing. In the silence, I have peace. 

Day Three Hundred and Seventy - The War on Christmas

Dear Christians In America,

I hate to tell you this, but America was established as a country of religious freedom where people could worship whoever they wanted, however they chose. If a community wants to have a Nativity Scene in their public park, they can. But as it's a public park, it is also perfectly acceptable to not endorse a single religion, even if it is the religion of the majority. This is not a war on Christmas. The choice of saying 'Happy Holidays' in stores is not a war on Christmas. It's their private store, the owner can display any greeting they choose. It's their right. So let me get one thing very, very clear.

The only way to wage war on Christmas is for self-proclaiming Christians to forget what Christmas is about. When a self-proclaiming Christian yells at a clerk for ringing up something wrong - they just shot themselves in the foot. When a Christian gets so stressed out about making everything look perfect that they forget to be kind, generous, and loving to those around them, they have lost the war.

Christians, my brothers and sisters, the war on Christmas is real. But it isn't non-Christians vs. Christians. It's our own hearts losing sight of what we proclaim to love, of the very birth of the savior who was born to die. If we lose sight of His sacrifice, then we have lost the war. If we get lost in commercialism, then we have lost the war. If we get lost in battling others about what 'True Americans' should say to each other during the Holidays (for more than Christmas is celebrated during this season) than we have lost the war.

You know what I haven't heard yet this season? Not a single Athiest, Jew, or Festivus celebrator complaining about the 'Merry Christmas' everywhere, or when I say it to them after their purchase. You know what I have heard? More than enough Christians complaining about the "Happy Holidays" and how it's ruining Christmas.

Christians are the only ones responsible for putting Christ in Christmas. Let me tell you how much any marketing agency does not want to focus their ads on the selflessness and lack of materialism that defines the humility of the birth of Christ.

If you want Christ in Christmas, put Him there.

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Nine - Time

Hey guys. I know. It's been ten days. I haven't gone ten days without blogging since it began. For the past ten days, I have not had the time.

Well. The last time I had the time I decided to put up my Christmas tree instead.

And what the past ten days has taught me is that... time is precious. Tonight, I was off at 4pm and I practically threw a mental party about it. A whole night! Now, to be clear, I do feel sort of terrible for taking the night off from being social. Tonight is the Winter Formal and Sacrifice, which you'll remember from last year is freaking awesome. And even though it is my favorite party of the year, my tank has been running on fumes for days. There was just no way I could swing it and stay sane. So I pulled up Hulu and caught up on Grey's Anatomy while I did two sinkloads of dishes. And I felt calmer than I had in days. Being productive, and having a chance to be quiet, is essential to my sanity. And when I work 12-13 hour days, I just don't have it in me to keep up with everything that needs to be done.

And so I now cherish the hours off that I have (It's been over 2 weeks since my last day off, and 10 days until my next one so I now count my 'off time' in hours) and fill them with productivity and utter relaxation. Time is precious. And I'll be glad to have a day off, and enjoy it like I never have. I know there will come a day when I'll once again forget how precious time is, but today is not that day. Today is the day I made food, did dishes, did laundry, and went to bed at 8:30 to catch up sleep.

And the thing is...I really don't mind this schedule. It has its days when I'm tired and want to be home. But for the most part, I really don't mind it at all. Especially considering I'm 24.

I've gotta do Advent stuff with momma. But wanted to say hey. I'll make up for lost time in the coming months. Everything slows down after Christmas.

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Eight - Ready

It's game time. Tomorrow morning I take my insurance exam. (Not to be an insurance agent, but to work for them competently. I prefer receptionist to sales. That being said, if you live in Iowa and need some insurance, we've got the best.) I've been studying for weeks. I'm as ready as I'm going to get. And now... now I just have to trust in my own abilities.

I'm so excited to be done with this test. Today was day three of my new job and I love it. It's right up my alley. I can be as organized as I please, and I get to make coffee in the mornings. Office banter is good natured and all around pleasant. I couldn't ask for a better position. And of course, everything at Kitchen Dressings is going swimmingly again as I'm not longer calling in sick every day. Still not completely recovered, but thanks to a fantastic mom and wonderful friends, am back on my feet and getting there.

Everything is changing, which as you might know, usually makes me freak out a little. But I'm not. I'm just really excited for the opportunities that are coming my way. Soon the HLM and I will be roomies and working together more often. Soon I'll be able to answer a lot of questions about myself that I'd really like to know, including: can I do this on my own?

With great freedom comes great responsibilities, and some questions about myself I can only find the answer to when I'm the only one responsible for me. When it's my place, my life, and just me in the quiet times. There are a lot of things I need to know. And thankfully, I have the time to find the answers in the coming months. Because finally... I'm ready.

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Eight - Nothing Makes You Thankful Like

Nothing makes you thankful like being sick. It's been a week now. I've been sitting on this couch, feeling like death, for a week. It's horrible. I miss my life. I hate calling in sick to work. Not only because I leave my boss in a bind, but because I genuinely enjoy working. I like making money, and I like being productive.

I miss my friends. My beautiful, wonderful friends have invited me out on multiple occassions this week that I have had to decline due to feeling like total crap.

I miss the outdoors. I miss talking without coughing. I miss breathing through my nose. I miss being able to clean my house. No, really, I do.

I haven't even decorated for Christmas yet. Makes me want to cry. I love all things sparkly. And I started Advent all alone instead of at church like I wanted.

But now, when I get well, I'm not going to let a single second of the season pass me buy without my notice. So, I'm thankful for being sick for the past week. Because it's reminded me of all the things that are important in this world.

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Seven - Not Waiting

There are certain things I have waited my adult life for. Things I only wanted to experience with that special someone I thought was coming along. Like getting a dog. Going to the circus. Getting my own place. 

But I'm not waiting anymore. As soon as a Laney puppy becomes available (and my work schedule allows) I will have my very own dog. As soon as the circus is in town and a friend is willing to go, I'm going to that too. (No one wants to go to the circus alone.) As soon as I can afford my own place (or rent with a friend) then I'm doing that too. Because waiting is only holding me back from things I want to learn about myself, and the person I want to be. I can still share them later. I'm not possessive of my things or my experiences. In fact, the more I love them, the more I want to share them. 

And I don't care if doing all of those things makes me an intimidating woman. I don't care if being self sufficient scares a man away. If it does, he wasn't the right one. 

I'm not going to sit here and lie and say that I don't care if I get married or not. Of course I care. I want to be a wife and mother more than I have the words to express. But right now... I'm not looking. Right now, it's time for me to fully become me. And that means a dog, an apartment, the circus, and maybe even an herb garden. Or some local missional work with my HLM. Or whatever I want. 

I've always been sort of afraid of being a strong woman. But no more. I can do this all on my own (with the help of God and friends) and I don't need a man. I just want one because I've got a lot of love to give and I would really like to share this life with someone and have kids someday. And I don't want a guy that needs me, but that appreciates me and wants me because of exactly who I am. 

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Seven - My Only

Dear Future Husband (if I am so blessed), 

You will never be my only love. I had hoped, when I was younger, that you would be. That there would be only one. But it's just not possible. You will, however, be the one I choose to love forever. And that will have to be enough. 

The others will never fully go away because my experiences with them made me who I am today, and I really like that person. Denying their existence would be to deny the lessons I learned, and I can't do that. Don't be threatened by them, be grateful for them. 

Garret taught me to date men, not boys. Sammy (though we were only just friends, I have to count him as a love because I did fall in love with him at the end) taught me more about my faith, and living in community, and how to really love people than anyone ever had. Phil, in his own way, taught me about love and friendship and loyalty and devotion. He taught me to think for myself, and to not do something just because it was expected of me, but to figure out who I was, and be that person wholly. And James... James taught me about passion, about embracing life, about doing what you love. James taught me that I can have big dreams, and that if I just embrace myself, I am radiant. James taught me to always try new things, and to always take the chance to express myself rather than keeping it bottled up in fear. 

I will always love each and every one of them. But you, whoever you are, I will choose you. You will be my future, but I will not deny their parts in my past. 

And now... now I'm to the point where I hope I'm not your only. That's a whole lot of pressure. Because my past, and those I love, have taught me all sorts of things about myself, and about what I cherish, what I need, what I want, and what I will not tolerate in others. Without learning those things, I'd never be able to appreciate you the way I should. I'd never know what I ought to stay away from, or what I ought to just have patience with. 

All I ask is that we choose each other. I am incapable of not loving those whom I once loved. My love for them will change, and I will not be in love with them forever, but I will always love them. I will never ask you to stop loving those from your past, only to choose me for your present and your future. 

You will never be my only. But you will be my always. 

Sincerely, 

I don't know why I love so differently, but I hope you can appreciate that about me.

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Six - Do Not Deny, But Do Not Magnify

Yes, my heart hurts. It's a dull ache most of the time. Something I had set my heart on... someone, really... and it didn't work like I wanted it to. It wasn't forever. But it was still good.

I am thankful. For all that I learned. About myself. About people who are different from me. About the world and life in general. I am so incredibly thankful.

I'm also exhausted. And longing. And hurting. But I'm not going to focus on those things. I'm going to focus on how good my God is. On how much He loves me. On this time He has given me to simply love on me, and for me to pursue my callings, and for me to learn about myself and how He made me, and to learn about Him. I turn my heart to worship, to praise, to being thankful. Because the essentials have not changed. He has still saved me from all of my fears, He has still poured out His mercy on me and turned me from an enemy to a daughter. He is still leading me deeper and deeper into a life full of Him, into a life more fulfilled. He has given me more than I could have ever asked for.

The more I focus on those things, the less exhausted I am. The less my longing hurts due to not being fulfilled, because He is fulfilling it, in His own time. The less I hurt because He is the great healer, and my greatest comforter.

It's not that I'm denying my need to express and feel the emotions of grief and hurt, but I'm refused to dwell on them or magnify them. Instead, I dwell on the goodness of God and express my need to worship Him and cling to Him and thank Him for all that He has done and thank Him for all that He will do. And when I do that, everything else falls into perspective. And my heart feels the peace it longs for.

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Five - Extroverts *shakes fist*

Listen up my extroverted friends! I love you guys. You guys are wonderful. You complete me and I appreciate all of social-ness you bring to my life. Such excitement. Such energy!

That being said: Stop. Please stop. Honest to goodness just stop. I know when you feel down you just want to get out there and have a good time. And you know I feel down and want to make me feel better. But that's not what makes me feel better. I'm an introvert. I want to stay in, and do quiet things. I love you, and all you add to my life, but can we just tone it down a bit?

Honestly guys, I'm exhausted. I've been stretched, pushed, taken out of my comfort zone, and grown. Now, now my dear, dear loud friends, I'm going to go spend some time in my comfort zone. In my quiet, peaceful comfort zone. Because to be really honest... I'm starting to question whether or not all this need to get me out of my comfort zone was really just you not wanting to leave yours.

Is it just me or does that seem strange to anyone else? It's always the extroverts saying, "This is for your own good." and "Get out of your comfort zone." and "Being so afraid of touch is something you'll outgrow."

No. No, I won't. Why do you guys need to touch each other all of the time!? Touch isn't something I'm afraid of, it's something that I find to be incredibly intimate and thusly don't like to share with strangers. It's not for my own good, it's because extroverts like to touch each other. I've been out of my comfort zone for months trying to fit into the extroverted world. And I don't. And I'm done pretending that I do. Or that I want to. And now, for once, I know what I need better than you do. And I need some peace and quiet. Come join me in introverted land or understand that it's going to be a while before I join you in extroverted land.

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Four - Love Me For Me, Or GTFO

You don't have to love me. I am just not for some people. I've accepted that. I do not like fundamentalists and they do not like me. We don't make any pretenses about that. But if you're going to love me, then love me. Love all of me. Love the parts you don't like.

Let me be clear, I am not asking you to like them. And I'm not asking you to put up with unhealthy or harmful habits or traits like explosive anger or a drinking problem. I mean things like... You don't have to like that my car is usually messy. Hell, I don't like that about me. You don't have to like that I do not make great first impressions, and stick my foot in my mouth a lot. You don't have to like that I make massive and detailed plans that I very rarely follow through on but like to make them because they calm me down and like to throw them away because I always end up going with spontaneous anyway. But you know what, if you love me, if you really love me, you'll love them. 

It's a lesson my dear friend Sammy taught me a long time ago, and has only proved itself more true in time. "When you love someone," he said, "Really love them, love them more than you love yourself, you'll love even the things you don't like. Because without them, they wouldn't be the person you love so much. Those things are part of them, and you love all of them." I loved that he took longer to get ready than I did. I loved that when he walked into a room, for just a moment, he had to be the center of attention. He loved that I clammed up around new people, especially people he'd talked me up to. He loved my driving. He loved my driving a lot. 

The OSM and I have this with each other as well. I don't like everything about him, and he doesn't like everything about me. But we do love each other very much, and I wouldn't want to change a thing because without them... he wouldn't be the OSM that I love. He wouldn't have such different life experiences and views and use them to fairly constantly challenge everything I think I know. 

In the end... love me for me, or don't pretend to love me at all.

Day Three Hundred and Fifty Seven - The Other Feast

Just one thought tonight, one thought that keeps echoing through my head and makes my heart ache and long for something more. Around 6pm on Thanksgiving night, John Piper tweeted: "End of day. Full of thanks. Family gone. Bible in lap. The other feast. " I want to have that relationship with the Bible. I want to look forward to it that much. I want to have so much knowledge that half the things I read don't make my eyebrows furrow. I want to know God that well. I want to have that much faith.

So I'm gonna go read my Bible.

Day Three Hundred and Fifty Six - Hard Learned Truths

I hate liquid eyeliner. It does make my eyes pop, but it's so annoying and smudges all the time, and looks so dramatic. Not really my style. Not every day.

When it comes to comfort vs. style, I do believe there is a middle ground. If I'm going to be walking all day, I'm wearing sneakers so my feet stay comfortable, and can look good doing it. I'm not saying let's pull a 4am run to walmart wardrobe or anything, but why get blisters on my feet just to wear flats instead of sneakers?

I'm still finding my style, but it has absolutely nothing to do with the 80's. Not musically. Not in the clothing world. Nothing. I do not care how 'in' it is, or how its making a comeback. I think it's ugly.

I never want to live near the Bayou.

I am going to have a Laney puppy.

I do not have to say yes all the time. It is my right to say no when I want to. And I do not have to give a reason why. And if I do, you don't have to understand, or agree that it is a good reason to say no.

I eat erratically and enjoy it so much. I eat things that do not look good because they taste amazing. Presentation is not my strong suit, and I'm okay with that.

I live so far under the poverty line, I can't see it when I look up. And... I want for nothing. I have plenty of food, a warm home, great friends, and enough money to buy yarn for projects. Sure, I'd like to have more than just enough, and be able to get a house (and pay a mortgage) someday, but having lived on so little, my heart simply cannot imagine having so much more than I need and not giving it away to those who need it more than me, or will do better things with it than me. My most precious possessions will always be my books, my knowledge, my experience, my friends, my family, and my faith. And that's the way I like it.

I have big dreams, that have a lot of little steps. I have no desire to be famous, only to live well where I am known.

I'm an introvert. That is never going to change, and me not liking people I don't know hugging me is not something I need to get over. Extroverts: please get a clue - not everyone wants to touch you or be touched by you. It is possible to be loved from afar.

I prefer staying in to going out. It's a better use of my resources. Sleepovers will always win over girls night out. See above for explanation.

I would very much like to marry a husker fan. Or at least someone who understands why I love football.

I want someone who sees my mind and heart first, and appreciates my looks, not the other way around.

I am not wrong all the time, some people are just really stubborn.

I love a little too easily. But I really like that I keep trying.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Due Thanksgiving not being on the same day every year, I think it's about 4 days off but I started this blog last year on Thanksgiving. Thanks for sticking with me for a whole year!

Day Three Hundred and Fifty Five - Snuggle

I don't know how to snuggle through Skype. I am not in the mood to talk. I need to communicate, and be communicated with in other ways today. I need to feel his touch and smell his skin and lean into him. I need a kiss. On the forehead. On the nose. On the lips. I need my hands to be entwined with his. 

And can't. No words can give what we need. Words are my thing. It's how I communicate best. It's how I hear, best. But when my words run dry... I need something deeper to fill me up again. And I'm discovering that touch is that deeper way of communicating. 

It's hard to lie with touch. I've been learning that. What you say with touch becomes the truth. When you touch gently, your heart settles. When you snuggle into someone, your heart snuggles too. It's hard to mask desire, it's hard to mask hesitation. It's just honesty. It's what I have when the words run out, or when they don't come out just right. 

And it's more than enough. I will always need words. I have to talk. I have to be talked to. But I'm learning that perhaps the reason I need to talk SO much is because it's the only form of communication I've used... pretty much ever. I don't... I'm not good at communicating with touch. I feel as if I don't communicate with it very well. But then I think about how well Anthem communicates with it... how safe he makes me feel, how wanted, how cherished. And I think about how good it feels when Anthem tries to use words the way I do. So... even if I stumble my way through it at first, I want to try anyway. 

And can't. Anyone have any ideas how to communicate through touch when you're 800 miles away?

Day Three Hundred and Fifty Four - Freedom

Quick break from our societal norms section to focus on this. I like it.


I give you freedom unlike that which you have ever known. Freedom to be exactly as I made you, for I make no mistakes. That is the gospel. Not one list of rules for another, but freedom to follow your deepest passions and desires for they will lead you closer to me. This is the message of hope that I have sent you to tell the world. My yoke is light, my burden is easy. You are free.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by holding up what you were taught, what you were shown, to my word, and watch as the chains fall. Renew yourself in me. Be free. Allow others to be free in My NAME. Be free.

When you give me all, not just your future, but your past and present, then know that I will cover you. I will protect you. I will guard you. I will free you.

Be free, my precious children, that is My calling on your life. To be free in me, Free to sing, free to dance, free to sit in silence without guilt, shame, or regret. You are free. I have freed you. I have paid the blood price. You are free.

Free to love without fear, and without reservation, I will always provide you with what you need. If I didn't provide it, you didn't need it. All along I have given you so much more than what you asked for, but gave you nothing you didn't need, so that  I might free you from all that you think you need and instead see my bountiful provision,.

I have freed you, and will continue to free you from all the cares of this world if you simply trust me. Trust me. Trust that I know best. Trust that I love you. Trust that I will provide. Trust me with you. I will not fail you.

 Preach freedom, teach freedom, live freedom.

Day Three Hundred and Fifty Three - Societal Norms Part 3

Societal Norm: Work is a drag, and you should only work as much as you have to, since you're only doing it for a paycheck.

Rather than: Taking pride in your work, and striving to glorify God in all you do, even when you're not getting paid enough.

As you probably know, I work at a store in the mall. It sells all sorts of kitchen gadgets and cookware and spices. It's amazing and I love it. But I don't get paid much more than minimum wage. It's a part time job. It'd be easy to just do the minimum. Just restock shelves, and interact with customers only when the boss is working, and simply follow orders. But it's not a corporate store. It's a small business, owned by a woman who is in her store working about 60-80 hours a week. The woman doesn't sleep much. Or do anything much. The economy is down, and while her store isn't struggling, it isn't booming either. If I choose to be a lazy employee, she's the one that suffers. Her store. Her livelihood. Her dream. And my reputation, my pride (the good kind), and my God. Doing just enough brings no glory to Him. Going above and beyond what is expected of me does. I do it so that others might see Him in me. Or at the very least, not have another reason to dislike Christians.

And it's not a drag. It's the best retail job I've ever had. Sure there are times when I'm ready to go home, but even then the time doesn't drag. I genuinely enjoy the work I do, the people I work with, and the place at which I work. Sure, there are hours I don't give it my all and refill coffee because it's easy. And yes, there are days when I don't want to go to work. But I try my best to remember to be thankful that I have a job, and thankful that it's such a good one, and thankful I get to work with the HLM sometimes because she's awesome. So buy local. And give it your all, because it's what you do when people aren't looking that is the real you. The more I learn that, the better person I am. Because I can handle people looking down on me because I don't follow societal norms and do weird things a lot of the time that I have a hard time explaining. But I really can't be disappointed in myself, in who I am when I'm alone. That is just too much to bare.

Societal Norm: 0
Almost any other rational option: 3

Day Three Hundred and Fifty Two - Societal Norms Part 2

Societal Norm: Church is a social club for Sundays.

Rather than: Church is something you live all 7 days a week. On Sundays you merely congregate in a building.

I've honestly had it with this particular societal norm. Not only does it rob you of any genuine emotion you once had about the Body of Christ, but it has the tendency to fill you with pride that at least you're better than the heathens who are still sleeping off Saturday night's debauchery. Going to a building for an hour on Sundays does not make you better than anyone else for the other 6 days of the week. Or Sunday either for that matter. Church is something you live out. It's learning your bible and your theology on your own time through various sources. It's spending time, each day, talking to the God you profess to love more than anything on a daily basis. It's living as He lived on earth, genuinely, compassionately, and with a sense of humor. It's serving His people, and realizing that all people are His children. It's keeping each other accountable, and stoking the fires of passion. It's being a city on a hill, not having a fake candle in your window. And it's never, ever about being better than anyone else.

I don't always get it right, and I can be the biggest hypocrite. I just wish... that when the HLM and I spoke to other Christians about what we're working toward they didn't look at us like we were naive children who will soon learn that living it out is just too exhausting. For me... not living it out is too exhausting. I can't keep pretending that it isn't my biggest priority. I can't keep pretending that a 'normal life' sounds good to me. It doesn't. It sounds like a big trap meant to keep me from true meaning and fulfillment. The more I follow my heart, the less dead I feel inside. The more I am true to my passions, the more free I feel.

Society tells me that it's okay to live my faith one hour of the week, or less. Society tells me that being 'open' about my faith makes me sound prejudiced and judgmental. Society tells me that we can all get along if we keep our opinions to ourselves. Society is wrong. I am not ashamed of my faith, even if I am ashamed of some of what has been done in it's name. And I don't remember the last time anyone ever got mad at someone who was genuinely serving others. And if we all keep our opinions to ourselves, how will we ever learn? The more I speak to my friends, and listen about their lives and how they see things, the more the way I see the world is broadened, deepened. Sharing experiences and thoughts keeps me humble, for I can see when I am wrong, and another is right, or when both sides have value. Keeping it to myself would be setting myself up for pride and disaster. Society is breeding an entire culture of lukewarm church goers who can't be reached.

Society: 0
Almost any other rational option: 2

Day Three Hundred and Fifty One - Societal Norms Part 1

Societal norm: On Valentines day the man buys flowers, chocolates, and a reservation at a classy hotel in exchange for sex in a red teddy.

Rather than: paying attention to your partner year round and speaking their love language as often as possible, whether it be gifts, quality time, touch, words of affirmation, or acts of service.

In this case, the societal norm is almost offensive as it only caters to one (or maybe two if you count dinner together as quality time) love language, when most people speak all 5 to various degrees. Moreover, the fact that gifts are given with an expectation of reward makes them a payment, and therefore rather degrading, making it incredibly offensive. On top of all of that, it's a complete distortion of the meaning behind the holiday (which is to celebrate love and how powerful it is in the face of adversity), and now has no meaning beyond blatant consumerism that revolves around a 'pudgy, ill equipped little guy... you know, cupid?'. And lastly, 53% of women say that if their partner doesn't get them anything, they will end the relationship. Yup. That seems like a great holiday. I can feel the love. Yea... that's love, right? Oh. No. That's psychotic and purely driven by Hallmark, Victoria's Secret, and Trojan. Frankly, I have no interest in the holiday. I will not be offended if Anthem doesn't do anything special because he does something special every single day by listening, loving, laughing, and growing with me.

Societal Norm: 0
Almost any other rational option: 1

Day Three Hundred and Fifty - Where You Lead

God is doing this really fun thing lately... namely leading me down paths that I have no idea where they go. I prefer to operate in the 'Okay, that is where I would like to end up, but You can choose the route." 

Instead, God is being my turn by turn directions and refusing to tell me the destination. Which, honestly, makes life a whole lot more interesting and has me thinking a whole lot less. But I feel more. I know more. I have more peace. I have more joy. I have more compassion. I have more grace.

He took me seriously. I said, "Where You lead, I will follow." I never said I had to know where we were going. Or why. Only that I would. And I will. And after a few weeks of this... I prefer it this way. 

Day Three Hundred and Forty Nine - Yes If Willing

This is neither the first time nor the last time I'm going to blog about prayer. It's such a complicated subject for me. Some days, I swear it does a whole lot of nothing (which is a greater commentary on my faith than my God to be honest). Other days, I swear it does the opposite of whatever I pray for. Which, again, has more to do with what I think I want vs. what I actually need. And then, on very rare days, He answers very quietly, and very clearly.

Saturday, I started praying for money. I know it seems like a strange request but... well I need it. I want to get married and move into a place and all of that requires money and I don't have any. At all. But here's the thing I love about God. As much as I would LOVE a check to show up on my doorstep, that's not exactly how it works most of the time. But He did indeed answer. As soon as I called my boss, she asked me to work hours that I wasn't scheduled for. The next day, she asked me to work an extra 7 hours. Then she asked me to work 4 hours the next day on my day off. I went from having a 24 hour week to a 40 hour week. Which... is definitely more money than before I prayed.

I like this sort of answered prayer, because it's sort of a litmus test for how much I really want the thing I prayed for. How much do I really want the money if I'm not willing to work for it? He gave me the opportunity to make more money, and I said yes. And I'm thankful. That extra 16 hours will really help.

In the end, I know He hears me; I just wish I could always see the method to His madness, to use one of my favorite sayings.

Day Three Hundred and Forty Eight - Short Fuse

I worked all day today. And it's only the first of many. Starting in December I'll be working 70 hour weeks for a few weeks at least, and when it dies down it'll still be 60 hour weeks. I've got to learn how to handle my stress better and not bring it home because tonight when I started Skyping with Anthem, we were at each other's throats within minutes. I wasn't trying to push his buttons and he wasn't trying to push mine, we were both just crabby because we had long days and missed each other. I don't want to come home with a short fuse.

Because even though a half an hour ago we were at each other's throats, just spending the last half hour looking at him and talking to him, even though some of it was snippy, has relaxed me to the point of being ready for sleep. He makes my day, every day. And when I come home, I'm determined to remember that. I'm determined to cherish him, even when I'm exhausted.

Day Three Hundred and Forty Seven - Tired But Not Stressed

I'd like to say that I have wise things to share with you tonight, but I don't. I'm exhausted. My heart is tired, not from bad things but from so much more good than it's used to. My body is tired from trying to keep up with allergies. My mind is tired from trying to wrap my head around how awesome it is, and trying to figure out how to make it work. It's not going to be easy. And since money is our biggest obstacle, Anthem and I are taking donations.

But I'm not stressed. I have absolutely no idea how all of this is going to work out. It seems absolutely impossible to me. I just know that we're going to fight for it, together. And I know God is going to be the One that accomplishes it. And it's going to be crazy and it's going to seem extreme and it's going to be a lot of things but... well really I don't care if anyone thinks its weird. Love is weird. Dr. Seuss told me so.

Day Three Hundred and Forty Six - Home

"It feels so good to be home."

I cannot tell you the number of times that I have said that in my life. As a rather frequent traveler, it's always been true. I love my adventures. I love being home. As most of you know, I spent the last five days with Anthem. And now, due to living in different states, I'm back where I started. Iowa. But I'm not home.

Home is where Anthem is. That is more true than ever. I flew away from home. I don't even know for certain when the next time I get to be home is. I'm going to be homesick for weeks at least. And I hate it and it makes me sort of pouty.

However, God in His infinite wisdom, has placed a purpose on my heart that was not there before. He took an idea and made it real. I do miss Anthem with every part of me. My body aches to feel his arms around me, my hands are all twitchy because they can't get comfortable without his, I'm freezing without having his constant heat source of a body around, and everything just feels off without him. But there are some things that need to get done before we live in the same state. Quite a few of them, actually. Things that I can totally do to make the transition that much easier.

I guess the purpose of tonight's blog is simply this: instead of wallowing, find a way to prepare for what you want. I want Anthem in my life permanently. So I'm going to work toward that. Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to cry my eyes out now and then from gut wrenching longing, but I'm determined not to wallow. Instead I'll work.

One does nothing but make me feel wretched. The other gets ready for awesome. And when I look at it that way, the choice is easy.

Day Three Hundred and Forty Five - Withdrawal

I need my HLM back. I know she is off gallivanting with her man, but her person needs her back. I need soul food, video games, and crocheting. I need sleep deprived laughter and church parking lots. I need the smell of cloves and soothing tea.

I have also discovered without her and parking lot time, my writing dries up. Not a word has been written in my novel since she left. I cannot imagine another world for my characters without the intertwining of her heart and mine.

Despite my withdrawal, I am happy.

I am happy because I found my person in Iowa. I certainly have my other half but he can't take care of all the girly, HLM needs I have. So, today I am missing my person, happily aware that she will be returned to me.

Day Three Hundred and Forty Four - Cherished

I am beginning to understand why marriage is the symbol of God's love for us. Perfect love casts out fear. It also wipes a past clean away. Last night, I was having a conversation with my other half about our pasts. I kept bothering him to tell me everything. He didn't want to tell and I didn't want to tell because both of us were afraid. He was afraid I  would look at him differently. However, when asked if it would change my love for him, I could easily and fully say no. The man I am in love with is an amazing, man of God. His past neither determines his future or him. It certainly does not determine my love for him. I love him because who he is inside inspires me. I know if I let fear get a hold of me, I cannot fully love him for him. Suddenly, his past would torment and bother me. But I know with God's blessing and help fear will have no place in our future.

Fear is an ugly, nasty thing. I finally told him about my fears and we faced them together. Amazingly, he does look at me differently. He looks at me with more love and tenderness than before.  My favorite part: the way he looks at me is starting to help me understand how God looks at me.
I am cherished.
He is cherished.
Fear has no place.

Day Three Hundred and Forty Three - Get off the Fence

I am going to pollute my dear friends blog today with a slightly political post. Please, don't stop reading simply because you read the word politics.

I am annoyed with the people of America. Not because of who won the presidential election. I am mad because all of those people who are now currently complaining and whining about the evil that will face America in the next four years believed their vote had power. They believed their voice could make change. Now suddenly, they have reverted back to believing the President holds the key to how a culture lives. If a voice can truly make a difference, why don't you take it one step further and believe an action can make a difference?

I don't mean go protest at abortion clinics, using your voice to sound your irritation and anger. I mean, go live with the people who need hope. Find individuals who feel lost, stuck, lonely, and hurt. Love them. Take all of your energy you seem willing to pour into facebook posts, picket signs, and soapbox preaching... now use your energy for that Truth you keep saying you believe in. Stop waiting for our country to do what you think best and start being the difference you want to see.

The President, Congress, or any government official does not determine what you choose to do with your every breath. Stop using your breath to disrespect others and to spread fear. Start using it to fill your lungs with fresh air as you take a step off that fence of apathy, anger, and self-indulgence.

Day Three Hundred and Forty Two - The Real World

The real world is far more muddled than people said. Or, maybe they told us but we didn't listen. All I know is all that "knowledge" we spent years of learning is fairly useless in the real world. In fact, the higher you go in education, the more education you are required to unlearn.

I don't recall ever being taught that even good choices have consequences that will hurt. In fact, some good choices have painful consequences that will last a lifetime. I chose to leave my little town in Iowa to go to college in NY. I fell in love with the people of NY and a struggling city. After four years, I made a choice to move back home. I knew the choice I had made was the right one. Yet, every day my heart hurts from the choice I made. I left a home to go to a home. No matter where I am, something/someone is always left behind and sorely missed. Even if I went back tomorrow, that home would not be the same.

I don't recall anyone ever telling me how difficult graduating college would be. Sure, they may have said the real world is difficult. No one excuses late work in an actual job. Bills will constantly demand more of you than you have to give. Daily life is exhausting and tedious. I remember all of those words of wisdom. Still, I don't recall anyone saying you will feel alone in the world after so many years of constant companionship. I don't remember them saying the in-between years are the years you feel lost. You are no longer a child and you are expected to be an adult, all while feeling somewhere in-between.

Pieces of my life are finally fitting together. I found several kindred spirits in Iowa. I even found the love of my life here. I thought I found my big-girl job. Turns out, I need to find a better big-girl job.

Despite the pieces that fit, so many more just don't. Where is real faith, full of questions and passion? How do you live in a culture that you now despise? How do you hold onto friends living over 1,000 miles away?

A professor once told me, questions of life are not to be answered right away. Questions of life must be lived out until they become new questions. She was right. I know she was right. What I need to know... how do you live a question?

Day Three Hundred and Forty One - Insomnia

I've never slept well with people. Ever since Tiffany (love you Tiffers, but it's true) who liked to kick the crap out of me in her sleep, I really just sleep better alone. Always have. At sleepovers, I was always the one that took the couch or the chair or the floor, because you get to sleep alone. I just had no desire to share a bed. Well. Until now.

And here's the thing. Anthem and I haven't slept together (both versions of the word, just to be clear.). But we haven't slept in the same bed. Yet I have become an insomniac over the last few weeks. And I know it's because I'll only sleep well next to him. That's... where I belong. Next to him. And it's going to be a while until I get to spend my nights next to him. So... basically I've signed up for months and months of insomnia because I gave my heart away and it changed me. 

It's worth it but... it sucks. I'm so tired. Even as tired as I am, I realize how incredible it is that my heart has changed so much that it's affecting my habits from halfway across the country. That... that's something special. 

Day Three Hundred and Forty - And I'm The Weird One

I'm tired tonight. Tired of living in this society. Tired of this culture. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for my country and my rights and my equality. But there are parts I don't agree with or like either.

Like our culture's tendency to portray men as big dumb idiots that women keep around purely for procreation. (Don't believe me? Watch a commercial. Who is making the decisions? Who controls the household? The checkbook? Yea.) I don't want a marriage like that. I have no intention of trying to be in control of every aspect of my home or husband. We'll be partners. I have no intention of marrying an idiot. I have no intention of treating my incredible man as if he is an idiot. And yet... I'm the weird one.

Like our culture's tendency to treat relationships like they're disposable paper plates. It literally hurts me to overhear conversations about this. (Note: I work in a mall, I overhear a whole lot of drama.) Relationships seem entirely dominated by a desire for dominance and indulgence and selfishness. To be considerate of your partner is seen as a freaking miracle. To be constantly in and out of 'love' and then hating them so much you can't stand them and think that everything they do is somehow offensive to humanity is normal. Maybe it's just me but I don't hate a single person that I have loved. And I only use loved in the past tense because I don't know them anymore, so I can't love someone I don't know anymore. And yet... I'm the weird one. 

Like our tendency to expect that love fades and eventually everything will be routine and soul numbing. When did that become the expectation? When did that become so incredibly normal that to even desire something else is seen as naive and impossible? No. I will not settle for that. I don't care what I have to do to keep my marriage fresh and exciting, I'm going to do it. I'm not going to settle for a boring life or a boring marriage, and it makes me really sad that some people have. Oh yea, and it's become normal. So normal that being determined to fight it makes me the weird one. 

Like our culture's tendency to give power of our relationship over to Facebook. Just in care you're one of the rare people that have found this blog outside of Facebook, Anthem and I are not 'facebook official'. Because frankly.. neither of us really care. It doesn't affect our relationship. And yet due to the lack my facebook relationship status not including his name, he's been accused (by various friends and acquaintances) of being a cheater, of being ashamed of me, of being a commitaphobe, and of being a player. That's how much power my generation has given a website. Just for everyone's information, there are specific reasons why we haven't gone 'public' with our relationship. And I trust him, completely. And for trusting my man more than a website... I'm the weird one. 

I am tired, but I'm not giving in. It's my life, and I have the power over it. I've honestly just stopped caring about people's opinions. I enjoy their shocked faces, but am no longer affected by their condescension. Think what you want. I'd rather you think I'm naive than be miserable. Because that's what all of these cultural tendencies have in common. The wife that is married to an imbecile... she's miserable. The in and out of 'love'rs that end up hating half the town because they have dated and dumped (or been dumped) every other week... they're miserable. The married (or simply long term) couples that don't even try to seduce, tease, play, or attempt to enjoy each other anymore... they're miserable. And those whose lives are dominated by a social media site... they're miserable too. 

...I'm so glad I'm the weird one. I just wish everyone was as weird as I am.  

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Nine - Cope

I heard this amazing quote via Anthem from a guy who had no idea he was saying something rather fantastic. "I'm coping with having the best relationship of my life." 

I raise my invisibly glass of something delicious to that guy. He's a poet. Coping is the perfect word. See, almost everyone I know is sort of a pessimist. Realists at the very least. And firm believers in Murphy's Law. We're sort of used to getting the shit kicked out of us by life. We're sort of used to things, and people, not being what they seemed. Just scraping by is a win for us. We've just sort of come to expect the worst because then it just won't hurt as much. 

Let me tell you, Murphy leaves you completely unprepared for when everything goes right. I'm at a total loss. I have the absolute best, sweetest, most generous, caring, devoted, passionate, faithful (both senses of the word) man I could have ever dreamed of and I have to rethink everything. My habits of expecting the worst are not only rude at this point, but destructive. For example: my habit of being afraid of rejection is now absurd and unnecessary and yet I still act on that fear, not because I'm afraid anymore, but because I'm so used to being afraid its a habit. It's destructive because Anthem has never once rejected me in any way, and for me to act as if he has hurts him. 

And so I cope. I have to consciously think, all the time, about what I'm saying and doing, or actually why I'm saying and doing anything. Because that's not my life anymore. Fear and disappointment are no longer the themes of my life. I'm safe. I'm loved. I'm cherished. I'm pursued in more ways than I ever dreamed. I'm gleefully happy. My old standards just don't cut it anymore, and I'm having to negotiate the happier side of life. And it does feel like coping. 

It is coping. I'm having to relearn how to live my life without fear or baggage, and with freedom and curiosity. I'm having to relearn how to not do everything by myself and enjoy having a partner by my side. I'm relearning how I live my life, how I think about my future, how I communicate. And it's not always easy. Old habits die hard. But die they must, because I'm never going back. 

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Eight - By Comparison

I'm dating an Italian supermodel. Well. He could be. A Spanish one at least. I'm not sure if you have to be Italian to be an Italian supermodel (we have Victoria's Secret Angels that are Russian) but I digress. He's literally that good looking. It's incredibly distracting when we talk because sometimes my thoughts just wonder... Arg. Again. Digress. I promise I have a point. 

I always thought that if I ever, by some stroke of incomprehensible luck, was with someone that was just jaw dropping-ly, drool inducing-ly, stop you dead in your tracks-ingly, good looking, that I would constantly feel ugly by comparison. I don't. I feel ten times hotter now than I did the day before we met. I feel stunning all the time. 

When he skypes me in the morning, knowing that I'm just waking up and haven't showered or done my make up or my hair and tells me, "You look so beautiful right now." Or when I get home from work and I'm telling him a story about it and he stops me and says, "Baby, I do want to hear that story, I just need you to start over because when I saw you I couldn't think straight. You're absolutely stunning." Or the times that I've called him when I was crying because I was having a bad day and he says, "I know you're hurting, love, but I just have to tell you, you're the prettiest crier I've ever seen." It's constant. There is not a single moment that he doesn't take the time to tell me how beautiful he thinks I am. And because of that, I feel stunning. All the time. My Italian supermodel makes me feel radiantly beautiful. 

Because there is no comparison. He never says, "You look like (insert famous pretty lady here)," or, "You're as beautiful as (insert pretty person here),". There is no comparison. He thinks I am beautiful. Period. It's not about how I look in relation to anyone else. It's just about how I look in his eyes. And when you know those eyes see only you... there aren't words to describe how beautiful you feel. 

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Seven - Is Comfort Really That Important?

It's early in the morning. Still probably dark out. It's cold. I wrap myself up in my blanket, grab my bible and my favorite pen that Anthem got me and my notebook and shuffle out into the kitchen and start the coffee pot that's going to be full of black tea, and turn on a light and sit down at the kitchen table and start my day right. And I know some days she'll be there before me, and I know some days she'll wait until the tea is done  before she shuffles out of her room. And some days the person crashing on the couch will pull the covers over their head and grumble about why our house starts moving at before the sun comes up, and sometimes they'll come and join us. 

Our fridge will always be empty, but our stomachs full. Our house will be cold, but our hearts warm, and we'll have so many blankets. I know I'm called to communal living. Not in the hippy sense where we're communists and share everything. Maybe someday. I mean, I really do enjoy organic food, but I digress. It will be our place, my HLM and I. But there will always be people there. Always. We'll always be feeding people, worshiping with people, having a disney night, having an xbox night, etc. Which is sort of hilarious, considering we're both introverts. Which is why it is absolutely necessary that our rooms are private. But our living room and kitchen might as well belong in a dorm for how much they'll be used by people not us. 

And honestly, even though I know that's what I'm being called to, and what I want, even the thought fills me with a little bit of anxiety. But it's not about what I'm comfortable with. It's about what God wants. Some days I'm not comfortable approaching God as the all powerful King, Lord, and Holy of Holies that He is, but He wants me to worship Him for that. Some days it's hard to lean on His grace and come boldly before the throne as His beloved child, but He wants that too. 

I am so much more filled when I worship and live as He requires, rather than how I am comfortable. 

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Six - Dissatisfaction

You know what doesn't lead to change? Contentment with the status quo.

I could go on a rant that would fill the Library of Congress of things I am dissatisfied with. But I could fit on the back of a matchbook the things that I've changed because of it. Because 99% of the time, my laziness wins out. I don't want to put the effort in, even in my own life, to change what I'm dissatisfied with.

And then you hit that point... that you don't care about what it takes, you're just going to change it. The HLM and I had this conversation last night. When you get sick and tired of being sick and tired (spiritually). And I am. I am thoroughly dissatisfied with my prayer life. I know how much just reading my bible every day (and granted, skimming it most nights) has changed my life. And I don't want to go another day without covering every thing in my life, every person I love, every worry, every hurt, every joy, every triumph, in prayer to the God of my life.

And what excites me is that it seems to me my entire generation is dissatisfied. We were told that our faith would move mountains, but have never seen it. We were told this faith would define us, but never saw a life that looked like that. And we want so much more. We can feel the faith calling us, we can feel the spirit changing us, and we're not going to have our spiritual life be internalized while we live a 'normal' life on the outside.

There will not be 2.5 kids in the back of the mercedes as we pull up to our white picket fenced house in the burbs that is full of pretty knickknacks. Potlucks will not be something that only happens at church once a month. Community will not be social events that are done with church friends.

I don't know how many kids I'll have, but they will never wear cardigans (unless they want to, they can be very stylish children if they choose) or be forced into tennis lessons. I'll never own a mercedes, because I can't imagine spending that much money on a vehicle when a Toyota will suit me just fine. Seriously, those engines like never die. My house may be in the burbs at some point in time, but it's going to be a lived in house. If something is in my house 'just because it's pretty' its going to be a Christmas decoration because my house is going to be lived in. Potlucks will be a weekly event of communal living with friends. Community will be open hearts and getting dirty with each other as we are honest about life.

Step one is changing what I know I need to change, no matter how it looks or what anyone says about my shift in priorities. I will not be dissatisfied when I can change it. I will not look back on 40 years of my life and wonder what it would look like if I had given up my distractions and covered it in prayer.

In the end its easily summed up this way: I don't want my life to look right and leave me empty. I want my life to look ridiculous and be so full of faith, friends, and true community that I never worry what other people think of my life.

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Five - Nope.

This is a blog about how much I don't feel like blogging right now. I don't. A lot of the times blogging is a way for me to release, to figure out my day, to draw an inspirational lesson out of something ordinarily mundane, to reflect. Nope. Not today. I'm not writing today. I'm gonna go play some XBox and read my Bible and just... chill out while talking to Anthem. 

This is me breaking my routine to stay sane. Have a good night folks, maybe do something you wouldn't normally. Just saying. 

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Four - Redefining Respect

Today, I read a Facebook post that stopped me in my tracks. "A single male friend here on tour complimented me on my hair today, but only after he asked my husband first if he minded. Floored by that act of respect for my husband and my marriage! "

At first, that seemed a little over the top for me. But then I realized that my perception was the one that was warped. That should be how all marriages are treated and respected. At least, that's how I want mine to be, and how I want those around me to act. I will have made a solemn vow to respect, love, cherish, and help my husband grow closer to God, while committing our marriage to the building of the Kingdom. Those are not words to take lightly, neither for the two of us who will exchange them, nor those who respect us and our marriage. 

It is humbling to know how much retraining my mind needs to see things the way God sees them, rather than they way my society sees them. Thank You, God, for setting such excellent examples for me to see, so that I can learn as much as I can before I take the vows. 

I realize that not everyone sees marriage this way or will show the same deference to it, but it is a standard that I want to meet in my life.  

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Three - Waaaaaah

Important life lesson: if the person you love thinks you're attractive - fuck what anyone else things, including and especially yourself.

Now. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying find someone with a weird body mod fetish. Or someone who encourages you to be unhealthy. But if you're insecure about your body, and your partner isn't, listen to your partner.

I've always been a little insecure about my appearance. Anthem tells me I'm beautiful constantly. And I'm starting to believe him. I'm carrying myself differently because I feel attractive. And he's been encouraging me to try new things, new styles, new ways of presenting myself. Which, other than minimal makeup, nude eye shadow, chapstick, and a ponytail, everything is new. Bangs, for instance. Those were his idea. And he was right. I look fantastic with bangs. Today, I tried a poof for my bangs. With bobby pins and hair spray and the whole nine yards. And it looked good too. Felt a little weird but it did look good.

Though of course, I had to tease myself. And that's when my HLM (Heterosexual Life Mate) sent me back a joke. It's from the Princess Diaries II. Watch it. It's 30 seconds long and very important to understanding the rest of this blog.

See the thing is, a lot of the time we get so wrapped up in what people are thinking of us that we lose sight that the ones we love and who love us are the only ones who matter. If Anthem liked me in antlers, I'd probably wear them. Because the only person I'm trying to attract is him. I want to make the boy moose go "Waaaaaaah" and if that means I have to face my fears, so be it. My insecurity is not going to stop me from being attractive to him. If you have a boy moose (or a girl moose) find out what makes them go Waaaaaah and try it.

Because often times, you being comfortable in your skin, is what makes them go 'Waaaaaah' the loudest.

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Two - Invisible Snow

A friend texted me this morning because she wanted to be the first person to tell me that it was snowing. I grinned, and popped my head up to look out the window. And frowned. There was no snow. I plopped my head back down on my pillow and tried to go back to sleep. That is until God nudged me. "Get up and look." He said. So after a moment of arguing, I got out of my warm bed, bundled up, went out into the cold air and looked. There was no snow. I turned to go back inside and He said, "No. Walk down the stairs and really look." I sighed, but since I was outside anyway, did what He said. Still no snow. And then I felt it. On my cheek. Then my forehead. Then my temple. And my cheek again. And I smiled. It was snowing. It was invisible snow.

And the point of all of this was simple. Just because I don't see it, doesn't mean it isn't there. Sometimes you have to get a little uncomfortable and step out in faith to find out if something is real, to find out if it's there. No more peeking from the windows. Stepping out.

It's about time I actually practiced my faith. He's not going to drop me. About time I started living like I actually trusted Him.

Day Three Hundred and Thirty One - You Know You Found A Keeper When... Pt. 2

Because I want to tell the world, and want to hear your stories, about your significant others. Please, please leave what you love about your love in the comments, either on FB or here. I want to know your stories!

You know you found a keeper when...

He loves you enough to sit through all your tears until he can make you laugh.

He knows you well enough to watch the thought causing the tears run through your face and then ask you what it was so he can get to the heart of the matter, to your heart, and hold it more gently than you do.

The sound of his voice puts a smile on your face no matter how ill you feel or how tired you are.

He loves you better than you love yourself.

He takes the time to take care of your heart.

He loves to dream with you about your future, and plan your future home, and pin with you. 

He shares his passions and inspirations with you.

He takes his role as your protector, spiritually, emotionally, and physically, very seriously. 

He loves your best girl friend almost as much as you do. 

He encourages you in your quest to do the will of God, and helps as best he can while he is on his. 

He holds your heart from afar, keeping you safe and loved even when he can't be there physically. 

When he can't wait to meet your family and you can't wait to meet his. 

When you no longer feel as if you're in this life alone. 

Day Three Hundred and Thirty - Parent Failure

I'm so thankful for my mom tonight. Because I hear about everyone else's moms. And mine is the best. Mine doesn't try to rule my life. Mine respects my autonomy. Mine lets me make my own mistakes and live my own life. Mine listens and never judges. Mine forgives when I mess up and never holds it over my head. Mine laughs with me. Mine enjoys me, not having power over me. Mine is not delusional to think that she can live vicariously through me. Mine respects me as a grown daughter. Mine trusts her parenting. And our God.

Granted, I do believe all of the moms who are reading this are on the same level as my mom. Because my friends who are moms are awesome moms. Though my mom will always be the most awesome because she is mine. I never knew that there were moms different than mine, moms who made their children cry and constricted their freedom, pointlessly for their own power, to the point of slowly stealing the light from their eyes and making their lives miserable due to their own warped priorities and stubbornness until college. 

Perhaps I am being too harsh but I have had just about enough of juvenile parents. I often worry about my generation. The more I learn about it, the more I realize my generation is illiterate. But the more I learn about my generation's parents - the more I realize they're still children. But maybe that's true of every generation. Maybe some people never really grow up. Just.. don't take it out on your kids. 

I'm just thankful I was raised right by an amazing woman, or chances are I would be in prison for assault. STOP MAKING YOUR DAUGHTERS CRY BECAUSE YOU FEEL POWERLESS IN YOUR OWN LIFE. And remember, not trusting them when they're adults is basically saying, "I am a failure as a parent because I raised an adult who is fully incapable of making wise decisions." So... well done. 

Day Three Hundred and Twenty Nine - Mine

There are very few things in the world that are mine. And most of the things that I think are, aren't really. Or they won't be soon enough. My apartment, my car, my clothes, my books... all will pass in and out of my hands during my brief life. But Anthem... I was talking to him today and I couldn't even tell you what we were talking about, but he was more handsome than I've ever seen him and it just sort of hit me. This can't be real. I can't get to stare at this guy, kiss this guy, flirt with this guy, be with this guy, all the time... But it is. It's real. He's mine. And all the things between us, the jokes, the laughs, the fights, the love, the tenderness, the shared heart to hearts, those are all real things. More real than my apartment and car and clothes. And they're not going anywhere. They will always be mine, stored in my heart. The things between us are between us. And while I'm glad you all know how happy I am, I'm glad that I have something that is just for me, and not to be shared.

Day Three Hundred and Twenty Eight - Bickering

Here's one of my favorite quirks: I love to bicker. I don't know why. I just do. I love it. I swear, I gain energy from it. Bickering is one of my favorite things to do. It's fighting about nothing for the sake of fighting. It's like wrestling, except with your mind. And as we all know, when a guy and a girl wrestle, they're not doing it for it's health benefits. Bickering does the same thing. It elevates your heart rate and gets you closer to the person you're bickering with. (Don't believe me? Try bickering across the room and see how long that lasts.) And see... see that's the way all bickering ought to end. With kissing. So... if there is someone you find yourself bickering with (and enjoying it) then... well you probably need to kiss them. Just saying.

P.S. Yes, for your information, Anthem and I bicker like an old southern couple. And I love it. Just as much as I love unsweet tea. Bwahahahaha.

Three Hundred and Twenty Seven - Closure

My heart is grieved. A bridge to a heart so similar to my own is going up in flames. And there is nothing I can do to stop it. Well, nothing healthy. Desperate measures could be taken, but that would do nothing for either of us. And so, I grieve. I grieve for the parting of ways that I never wanted. I grieve for all that might have been. I grieve for the friendship I cherished for so long. 

But I let it go. Because to burn a bridge, or create a new life for herself, or just to say goodbye, is her right. And I have no right to infringe upon her freedom. It's her life. And I love her. And so I just watch as the bridge burns. There are no fireworks. No drama. Just a revoked invitation from her life. 

But as I watch the bridge burn... it sheds light on a nasty secret of my own. Mixed in with the grief is relief, the two are swirling around my heart in equal measure. I love her, and miss her. But I am relieved in knowing that the end... it wasn't all my fault. There have been multiple blogs that have mentioned my guilt complex. It gets cranked into high gear when friends of mine do hurtful things inexplicably. Had she only left me, I would have been dragged into confused guilt and nameless shame. But it's not just me. She's torching many a bridge. Whatever caused her to wipe the slate clean and start over had little to do with me, and much more to do with her. 

Which gives me the closure I needed to just grieve. To not be angry or hurt but just grieve. This closure came more quickly than I could have anticipated. And I'm thankful for it. Because it came on the heels of a much anticipated closure that took far too long to get here. I learned that another person I had once called friend had burned many a bridge as well, and not just mine. And the relief that brought was tangible. 

I could finally let it go knowing that whatever had happened wasn't my fault. It was simply their choice. And once I learn that, that I am not responsible for the actions of others... well then the things I carry... well let's just say they'll be a whole lot less. 

Day Three Hundred and Twenty Six - Support Sanity

I've worked for a number of people in my life, a few of whom were certifiably crazy. The craziest ones had to be, hands down, the managers of chain stores. It's those people that you wonder 'how in the hell did you ever get promoted? Not only are you insane, you're also incredibly incompetent.' They're the people that honestly make you question your own sanity by wondering what it is you're not seeing because someone had to see value in this person at some point in time, right? It's a mystery that still boggles my mind.

And then there is the lady that owns the kitchen supply store I work at. There is only one of them. It's her store. She doesn't manage it, she owns it. It's her baby. And it's awesome. It's full to the brim with knickknacks and cookware and bakeware and pinstriped aprons for men. It's got 15 different varieties of salt and a sauces section that makes my mouth water every time I read a label. And over 30 varieties of coffee, whole or ground in the store, which make the entire place smell like heaven the whole time.

More important than the awesomeness of the store, however, is the awesomeness of the people who work there. There is my boss, the owner, who has her quirks (she's a little OCD) but she's got a good head on her shoulders and makes rational decisions. She's a little too trusting, but I'm determined to make sure she doesn't get bitten by that if it's at all within my power. She's quirky and down to earth and not crazy. And the coworker I met today, I kid you not, is an over the top Russian with a heavy accent and one of the weirdest senses of humor that I've ever come across. In other words: awesome.

I understand that my conclusion may sound oddly political, and that's for two separate reasons. 1) I hate Walmart and all that it represents and avoid it like the plague if at all possible, and thusly promote local stores and products and entrepreneurs whenever possible. 2) I think I've become so incredibly saturated by the deluge of political ads everywhere in this state that its become part of my subconscious. Anyway. My conclusion in this: when normal, albeit quirky, people do things - they may not always work super smoothly, but they do work and everyone wins. When people get promoted in chain stores for reasons that Plato himself could not work out, everyone loses. Buy local. Support sanity.

Day Three Hundred and Twenty Five - Morgasma

I'm gonna take a post and dedicate it to someone else. Her name is Morgasma and she's kind of my hero. See, I fell in love with Morgasma thanks to the OSM. They're best friends those two. In fact, I heartily believe that they're meant for each other. If not in this particular universe than in one of them. She's the only person I know that can keep up with him, and put him in his place when necessary. Anyway, so that's how I met her.

I fell in love with her over a number of months, mostly seeing her at Sunday Fundays. Her laugh is one of the most genuine I've ever seen. She throws her head back and out comes this triumphant sound that is infectious. Whenever I'm around her, life is just more enjoyable. And she never looked down on me because I was young, just like the OSM. I have no idea what she saw in me, but she likes me too. She enjoys spending time with me. Probably not as much as I enjoy her, but she does. She is strong, confident, beautiful, radiant, sarcastic, and altogether wonderful. She's kind of my hero.

And a few weeks ago, this absolutely crazy awesome woman survived a stroke. And she didn't just survive. She's rebounding at a rate that is miraculous. But her life is still not like she had planned. Not right now. I fall to pieces when a Wednesday goes wrong. And she's struggling to use half her limbs. And she's still got a better sense of humor than I do.

I can't imagine what she's going through. I can't imagine being stuck in a hospital and having to relearn how to do things I could do a few weeks ago. I can't imagine not knowing when I'd be able to drive again. I can't imagine laughing. And yet she does. She laughs and makes jokes and smiles. Morgasma is still there. Despite everything that's happened to her, she's stayed true to herself. That light isn't gone. She's just... amazing.

And I'm not good at expressing that, not to people's faces. I don't know what to say, or what to do with my hands. When I saw her, I was so impressed. She's doing so well. I simply felt useless. I can't wait to make her the pie I promised her and kick her ass in a board game because I am not above taking advantage of her to win board games, but neither of those things will do anything to help her. She's made of steel, that one. And I look up to her, so much. I always have, and always will. I'm intimidated by her, to be really honest. But... well if I was in the hospital and bored out of my mind, I'd want her to come to me and kick my ass in a board game and for a little while just feel as if everything was normal.

So... Morgamsa? You're my hero. And I'm gonna make you pie and kick your ass in a board game. So... let me know which one you'd like to lose. And sorry I don't know what to do with my hands. You're amazing.

Day Three Hundred and Twenty Four - On The Spot

Life takes persistence. Big girl jobs have hiring processes that take weeks. And sometimes, after investing weeks, they still say no. And when you search the classifieds and nothing comes up and you're tired of getting your hopes up only to have them dashed. And then there are times like today. Days where everything falls into place in a matter of hours. 

I woke up without anything to do and absolutely abysmal weather. Which, in case you didn't know, is my favorite. I braved the frigid Midwestern hurricane to drop off my application for a part time, nights and weekends, purely additional income job. Within an hour of dropping it off, I got a phone call requesting an interview for today. After the interview, I was hired on the spot and start tomorrow. 

Granted, there is still the matter of my full time job, and finding an apartment for me and my heterosexual life partner, but they never had to go in any particular order. One job is better than none. And I only applied to part time jobs I knew I would love. This one is working at a kitchen supply store. A homey, always smells good, owned by a super nice lady kitchen supply store. 

So now I've got something to help me pass the time, while providing minimal income, until I see Anthem. Until I find a new place to live. Until I get my big girl job. And when everything else does eventually find its way, its still going to be nice to have. It's just nice to have one piece of the puzzle together. It's just nice when at least one thing falls into place so nicely. Gives me hope. 

And we all need a little hope to get us through the rough times. 

Day Three Hundred and Twenty Three - That Kind Of Tired

This one is going to be short because I am indeed 'that kind of tired'. I didn't do a lot today, I shouldn't be as exhausted as I am. But I'm so incredibly thankful that I am. Because in this white collar world sleeping can become difficult. Stress and inactivity often cause my brain, and the brains of so many of my friends, to go haywire the moment they hit the pillow and keep us up for hours... or days.

Not tonight my good friends. Not that I've had trouble sleeping lately, in fact, since Anthem, I even started dreaming again. But tonight, as soon as my head hits the pillow my body is going to give out. Its the sort of sleep where the only prayer on your lips is "Dear Jesus, please thank the man that invented pillow top mattresses and give him a hug for me." before you're off to dreamland.

Having said that, goodnight! And get some sleep. More importantly, get some rest. Get the kind of tired you need to be.

Day Three Hundred and Twenty Two - Chin Up

The last few weeks have been a struggle. Madison didn't pan out like I thought it would, which actually makes me happy, now that I look back on it. In fact, a lot about the last few weeks makes me happy now that I look back on it. Which is interesting, as when I was going through it everything looked dismal. And now... now everything looks bright. 

I've got a few job opportunities now that I'm excited about, and don't know which one is going to pan out. But I do know something will. I'm looking for a place for my heterosexual life mate and I to share for the next year, and while we're finding all of nothing, I have a peace in my heart that tells me all will be well and we'll find something. I'm applying for part time work for nights and weekends at stores that are not going to pay me enough but that will be fun to work at for extra income because I really hate being idle and want to save as much money as possible so I can see Anthem as much as humanly possible as we continue to fall in love and mesh our lives together. 

I just... have hope. And for the first time, not the hope that only exists in my mind for a bunch of things that are never going to happen, but a real hope. A hope for a big girl, stable job. A hope for the best roommate I could imagine. A hope that in time, with work, Anthem and I can find a way to be in the same state. A hope that life will come together, one step at a time, as I trust God and work to make it the life I want. A real hope, a tangible hope, a peaceful hope. 

And it's led me to start each day with my chin up. It doesn't matter what happens in the day, or how my plans change, the important things have stayed the same. So chin up. Whatever you're going through, I can tell you, is not bigger than you. You are stronger than anything that will try and break you. 

And hey. We're all in this together. So chin up. 

Three Hundred and Twenty Two - Companionship

I get so much more done when there is someone with me. Don't get me wrong. I can run errands like no other, and am perfectly capable of functioning alone. But it's so much easier to be productive when there is someone with me. I find myself much more motivated. Doesn't matter if it's writing letters or making dinner or doing laundry, if there is someone to keep me company, everything works a lot smoother. And I happen to know quite a few people who feel the same way. 

Which made me wonder - why is it then that companionship is almost completely neglected in the dating scene? Sure I want someone that excites me and takes me on dates and that feels magical. But I also want someone to live the day in and the day out with me. Someone who will just be there, and be a calming presence and a motivating one all at the same time. I want a companion. And to be a companion. To really live life together. 

Because that's all we are, really. We're each other's companions. All of my closest friends have, largely, stopped having 'friend dates' where we actually just go out. Most of the time, it involves coming over and watching a show we both love or seeing a movie we both love or cooking a meal together or doing chores together to break the monotony. Just living together, and helping each other live. Those are the best friendships. The ones where you don't clean up before they get there, you clean up because they came over to keep you company while you clean up. The ones where you run errands together because the only time you have this week is the drive between them and you want to spend time together. I love those friendships. They are my favorite. 

And marriage, or dating, is just that - your very best friend. Your very best companion. The romance, the chasing, the date nights and the excitement - all come out of your friendship, your companionship. 

This is why I can't wait to be with Anthem all the time. Of course I'm excited for our dates, but I'm so much more excited to just be able to live life with him. To listen to him practice, to be able to cook a meal for him, to run errands together and watch Saturday morning cartoons. To just... be companions for this crazy life we lead. 

Day Three Hundred and Twenty One - Learning

Here's the terrible things about human beings: we're great at learning. Unless we think we already know something. Then, then we're awful.

Today, I picked up my guitar again. Anthem was fairly excited. I'm not entirely sure what his expression was, but I think it's safe to say he was happy. My fingers are throbbing and my muscle memory is horrid. But there was hope. It felt good, even through the pain, and something in my heart resonated. I need music. I don't understand it, not at all, but there are ways that I can communicate, and more importantly listen, through music that I simply can't through words. That's beside the point. The point is that Anthem is really, really good at playing guitar. He's a music guy. And he's amazing at it. I am not. I am getting my callouses back and trying to remember how to play a G.

And yet the minute he gave me advice, I immediately snapped at him. I knew I looked stupid because I can't play anything well. And I was defensive. He's Anthem for goodness sake. He sits down and makes magic when he picks up a guitar. There are 3 year old Korean children that can play guitar better than me.

And yet - yet I was defensive at his advice rather than realizing that of course I should take his advice because of course he knows what he's doing. He pointed out that I was being defensive and ridiculous, which made me more defensive and ridiculous, but given a few minutes (and a little bit of pouting), I started trying it his way.

And here's the shocker: his advice was dead on. It literally made my practice time at least twice as productive. And that's when I realized - it's not that I thought he had bad advice. I simply thought that because we have two very, very different brains that I already knew how to do it the best way for me. It wasn't that I thought Anthem's advice wasn't good - it's that I thought I already knew something different. I didn't have to learn how to practice guitar. I had to relearn. And that's when my pride came in.

And hopefully, now that I know that, I can relearn - right now - that I don't know how to do everything and just listen to the experts.

Day Three Hundred and Twenty - Countdown

I'm not a patient person. I never have been. But there are levels of patience that I can do and levels that I can't. Waiting forever for something I'm not sure will even happen = not good at. Having a countdown and merely have to fill the time = much easier. Granted, there is a middle ground of waiting for something I know is going to happen with no idea when it's going to happen = sucks a whole lot but possible.

I never saw Anthem coming, so I didn't really have to wait for him. Not specifically. Had I been waiting for a man like that to come into my life, knowing all that I was missing and all that he would be, I'd have quickly lost my mind. Once we found each other though, another waiting game started. I didn't know when I would actually be able to be next to him. To hold his hand. To kiss him. To walk with him. To cook with him. To cuddle with him. To be able to hold him and look in his eyes when I tell him I love him. Oh and dance. There will be dancing. I knew that God would provide, I knew we'd find a way, but had no time table. Which is doable, but torturous. 

Until today. Today, I get to have a countdown. In twenty-one days I will be with Anthem for 5 straight days. And honestly, immediately, I have more energy, and more motivation. I've got a lot to do in the next three weeks. And I've got something to look forward to. I have a goal. And that... that's exactly what I needed. 

Life lesson: if you're stuck, make a goal and try and give yourself a firm deadline. Actual lesson: DEAR HEAVEN I'M EXCITED!

Day Three Hundred and Nineteen - Off My Shoulders

Today, I know more of what I want than I ever have in the past. I want to be with Anthem. I want to write. Books. Big ones. Lots of them. I never want to be miserable at work ever, ever again. Life is too short. Unless it comes with a really awesome employee discount. Then a little torture is worth it. I want to always be living and never waiting to live. I always want to feel as free as I do now. Free to chase the sun. Free to cuddle up in my couch and enjoy the cold nights. Free to love the man I love. Free to take my time to figure things out. Free to keep learning. Free to move, free to stay, and free to do a little of both. Free to worship my God, free to listen to His voice, free to see Him. 

Maybe freedom and success are one and the same thing.

The point is this: I no longer want the world on my shoulders. I have no idea why I struggle to get a livable job. Maybe it's because the economy around here is crappy and I don't have a lot of experience. Either way, I'm doing the best I can and really believe that I'm supposed to be here through the winter. And God will provide for His will to be done. That's all that matters. 

I'm deciding, right now, not to be stressed anymore. I'm taking the world off my shoulders. 

Day Three Hundred and Eighteen - Pros and Cons

Everything has its pros and cons. Well. Almost everything. I have no desire to get into full blown discussions of what 'everything' is. There are somethings that are just fucking awful. I'm not talking about those things.

I'm talking about not getting the job in Madison. It hurt, not getting it. I cried. I did. A lot. But thankfully, I was already on Skype with Anthem. I'm not going to give you the details of our conversation, that's for us. I am going to tell you my conclusion.

I'm tired of being stressed out. I'm tired of being so worried about money all the time. Screw money. I still need it, but I'm done obsessing about it. I really, honestly, trust God. God gave me Anthem. He knows my needs and my hopes and my dreams. Better than I do. And this stress is killing me and stealing my joy. No more. I'm still willing to work, as hard as I need to, 3 jobs if need be, and to push the wall but I'm fucking done worrying about it all the time.

And, might I add, to be honest... I'm a little happy, and a little relieved. I'm not saying part of me isn't disappointed, because part of me is. But another part of me is happy. Not moving to Madison means I get to move in with my heterosexual life partner as soon as humanly possible. Not moving to Madison means I don't have to be around those hateful Badger fans. Not moving to Madison means I get yet another chance to make my community a better place to live. There are pros. I had to look for them at first, but they do exist.

And I am at peace. Anthem still loves me, my friends are still the best in the world, and God is going to handle this better than I can, if I just let go and give it to Him. So... I'm going to go chase my passions and see what happens. I'll keep you updated.

Day Three Hundred and Seventeen - No Trace

They're gone. The blanket, the unfinished book, the picture hidden in my closet. Gone. The blanket went to a good home. The unfinished book is rotting in a landfill. And the picture is ripped up. (And the digital back up of the picture has also been destroyed.) I was thorough. They have no power anymore. Because I took it back. 

Sidenote: just like I took the power from Facebook in not having to make my relationship Facebook official to make it real. Seriously. Such freedom. I do not need the world to know who I am dating in order for it to be real. 

These objects became powerless the moment I realized that they were nothing but empty weights and that I didn't want them anymore. Nor the dream they once represented. I want only Anthem and our brand new future together. So the blanket had to leave, because those memories brought no warmth anymore. And the unfinished book was no longer my responsibility to finish. It's.. It's not my dream anymore. And the picture was just a picture, a snap shot of a different time. It was nothing more but pixels and faded memories. Just like every other picture. But this one had no place in my present. 

More importantly, they are no longer hidden. They are not safe from the world, tucked away from reality. They have been brought into the open. They are not my secrets anymore. They are things that were found in a dark closet, lost in my heart, and have no place there anymore. And they haven't, not for years. It simply took the light that Anthem brought into my heart to help me see that. 

Now that they're gone, I'm free. Free to fly higher. Free to dream bigger. Free to love wholly. Free for a new future. Free to remember the good times without dredging up the bad ones. Free to leave it unresolved because I just don't care anymore. And now... now my heart is clean. Warm. Free. And now that I've told the world, and let them go, I'll never think of them again. 

And now to live the rest of my life.  

Day Three Hundred and Sixteen - How Our Story Starts

There are numerous things on this blog that I am never going to write because they are just for me. Or just for me and Anthem. Or just for me and my closest friends. Or just for me and my family. But I can tell you how our story started, and why that's so important.

Anthem and I met over the computer. He is the roommate of a very good friend of mine (Tex) who put up a question on Facebook for the world to answer. And some rather nasty lady answered. And even though I hadn't talked to Anthem in close to a year, my heart went out to him and I answered him too. I saw that he was online later that night, and said 'hey!', just wanting to encourage him. He was making dinner but open to talking and asked if he could call via skype. I didn't even have a web cam and was trying to catch up on my shows via hulu but I said what the heck, figuring it would take all of 10 minutes or less. We talked for 3 hours. When Miss Erica knocked on my door, we quickly exchanged phone numbers so we could text. We talked for another 4 hours on the phone after she left. We haven't stopped talking since. But the uniqueness of our meeting, the impossibility of even seeing each other at first, he had only my voice, caught us both completely out of our usual comfort zones. And in our comfort zones, both of us tend to like to wield power over newcomers. With certain smiles and body language, we can drive them crazy and have them spill their deepest secrets. For a very short amount of time, we can have anyone in the palm of our hands. But we couldn't. There was too much distance, and not enough atmosphere to work with to create it. We had to just be us and ask the other to do the same. Neither was on a higher footing. He was just Anthem. I was just me. And we fell in love.

And now that we're in love, there is no power play. There is nothing but a longing for each other, but a love. God took us both where we were and gave us what we needed to find true love without hurting each other through it. There are no words to express my gratitude.

Of course, being separated by a number of states from the man I love sucks. But knowing I have no regrets with him, knowing he never got any false version of me, knowing that we fell in love, not on our own terms but on God's... well that makes all the difference in the world. That's what made this one... The One.

Day Three Hundred and Fifteen - Something Greater Than Me

I'm writing this as Anthem is playing a song on the piano for no other reason that just to play. And it's beautiful and I get to sit and listen to him create music that moves me. It's incredible. And then it sort of hit me, what I am doing, what we are doing, is something so much greater than me. This is bigger than me. We are bigger than the sum of our parts. This was no mere coincidence. The timing was too perfect at exactly the wrong time. He looked nothing like what I thought I wanted and is so much more than I ever dreamed. Sometimes I still lose my breath when I think that this man, this amazing man that I cannot get enough of, is in love with me too. This is so much more than I am capable of. This is what I have been waiting for this whole time, because this is so much bigger, so much greater than me. Anthem and I have so much to do in this life that is so much bigger than us. And it's reassuring and terrifying all at the same time. 

It's an amazing thing, to have all of your dreams come true and then be given a whole new set of them that were so much bigger than anything you had ever dreamed before. 

Day Three Hundred and Fourteen - I Forgot

Miniblog: I have forgotten what true, communal worship is supposed to look like. I saw it today, and realized that not only had I forgotten that that is what is supposed to look like, sound like, feel like, but that I'd forgotten how. That I'd spent so long wrestling with God and being disappointed in my own visions of how I'd wanted things to end up and refusing to see His blessings and provisions that I hadn't lost myself in genuine worship in far, far too long. I was humbled. I am humbled. And thankfully, now hungry. That is what I need. I need to get lost in His glory and praise His holiness. Because that, my friends, is the sole purpose for my existence. That is what I was made for, that is where my joy, my happiness, my fulfillment, my peace, my purpose, my love, my hope, my everything comes from worship. My life for His glory. My life an act of worship. Together with the rest of His people. How had I forgotten that?

Day Three Hundred and Thirteen - Cliches

Just a heads up, I am so blissfully happy, I find myself mildly annoying. I totally know I'm doing it. Like today. Today a buddy of mine was telling me about the next time his good friend is coming to see him and I found one insignificant thing he said that I was able to morph into talking about how blissfully happy I am with Anthem. Yes. I am that girl. You really do have my apologies. Not for being happy, but for being unable to shut up about it. That being said, all of the cliches I spent my life despising/longing for are mostly true. 

"One day, you'll meet someone that will make you understand why it never worked with anyone else." I always hoped that one was true. It is. Sweet mother of all that is good and sugary it is. It never worked with anyone else because they weren't Anthem. I have never been so chased, so cherished, so protected, so helped, so encouraged, so supported, so excited, so safe, so hopeful. On a scale of one to ten, everyone before was a solid 1 and Anthem is 9837297. Roughly. 

"When you know, you know." I never really liked this one. Honestly, could it be more vague? I thought I knew before. I was like, "Yea, this could work... maybe." And now... now I get it. It's not vague. It's certain. When you know, you know. And I know. It's just that simple. If it isn't, then you don't know. Then you haven't known. Not yet anyway. 

"The best things in life are worth waiting for." So. True. I'd wait forever for him. I had no idea how wonderful a man could be. I had no idea what I was missing. Now that I know, I'd wait for it forever. The thought of anyone settling for less simply breaks my heart. This. This is how love is supposed to be. This is the love that brings you to life. This is the love that makes your soul sing. Just with this small taste, I'd wait until the stars fell down for it. 

"It'll happen when you least expect it." Now, see, for us overanalyzers, that one is tricky. Because as soon as we see a situation in which our focus should be on something else, like work or friends or self improvement, we immediately think, "Hey! I'm not expecting it. So... can it happen now?" Which entirely defeats the point. And yet, though I had that thought when I decided to be all about work and getting my life together (which frankly I still am) I still never saw Anthem coming. I could have never, ever expected that it would be like this. Because I didn't fully believe this sort of thing really happened. I didn't believe men like Anthem were real. I'd never experienced anything even close. And before I knew it, I was living it out. I was the girl other girls were going to be jealous of. 

The entire point of this cliche rant is this: you can't know what it is until you do. It's just impossible. You can see it (I hope to be able to model it for my children so they have an idea of what to look for) but they won't know what it feels like. I can tell my friends, but the ones who haven't had it yet won't understand. And the thing is, because we're all a little angsty teenager at heart, we'll be so convinced that we do know what it is. And that we'd had it. Until we do. Just like that 12 year old that swears up and down she's a teenager now and when she's 18 she's telling all the 12 year olds that they have no idea what they're talking about. For those of you who know exactly what I'm talking about, I am now far less annoyed by your vague cliches. For those of you who don't: DON'T SETTLE. Don't ever, ever give up. It's worth waiting for. I promise.