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. 

Day Three Hundred and Twelve - Smell

I happen to believe in a large correlation between smell and personality. The people I know with the largest personalities, also have the most lingering scents. Think about it. See if it's true for you. Leave me a comment about it. It's not necessarily that their scents are the most dominating. Everyone knows its the guy who seems to breathe Axe Body Spray that is going to be the most dominant. But their scent lingers. A single hug from the OSM seems to stay on my clothes until I wash them. Not always there, but a turn here or a stretch there and suddenly I'm back in that hug.

Or my heterosexual lifemate. She smells like everything that's good in this world. She smells like baking and walks in the fall and somehow glitter. I didn't know glitter had a smell, but it does. And just a few moments with her leaves that smell lingering. That calming, glittery smell. 

They saturate me. Their presence lingers. But only when I spend time with them. I need to be refreshed. I need to be reminded. I need to communicate. When I talked to Anthem this morning, he said that he wanted to smell like God, and I totally understand that. To be so saturated by someone, by their infectious laughter, by their compassion, by their life, by their sound, that you can't help but reflect it to the world. And this morning, he took the time to just communicate with God, via worship music, and let it soak in. I know when I talked to him this morning, he was still radiating our God. His warmth, His love, His passion. 

It was just a great reminder as I started today that results don't just happen. I don't just wake up smelling like God. I don't just wake up able to reflect Him to the world. I have to remember to sit down, spend time, communicate, get hugs, be loved, love, and invest in our relationship. It's also a good reminder that to get results, it doesn't always take exhausting amounts of effort. Sometimes it's just a cup of coffee by myself in my hammock with a journal and a playlist. 

Day Three Hundred and Eleven - Melt

Crash. Crash I understood. Melt is an entirely different ball of wax. Haha. See what I did there? Sure you did, you guys are smart. I digress. I don't... I don't know how to melt. I mean I've got a vague picture of what that looks like but... I'm me. I mean, didn't I just make massive breakthroughs in being me and just me and not what anyone wanted me to be or thought I ought to be? And now... now I'm supposed to melt into someone else. Melting is where the boundaries between you and I become very blurry in the 'we' part. Two parts become one and then they get stirred around until they're not two things anymore but just the one.

Except... much like crashing, my initial reaction is "Hell to the no." That seems dangerous. Just like crashing. Crashing was dangerous. It was also one of the best things that ever happened to me and changed my heart so quickly and so radically, that I know God was directly behind it. Melting... melting into someone who believes in me... more than I do. Who will, is all things not fashion related, make sure that I don't disappear. The person who excites me and steadies me all at the same time. 

Melting is messy. I... I don't think I've ever melted before. I think... I think I've already started to melt. I know I've never woken up at 7:30am every morning for two weeks and been grinning every time before now. That has to mean something. He steals my sleep and I don't even mind. To be completely honest, I like it. I love it. I love him. 

Melt. Melt. Melt. That seems very dangerous. Crashing can hurt. But melting... melting is an entirely different level of trust. Crashing means you can break my heart. Melting means that if you leave, you'll take my heart with you. Melting is exactly what I've been avoiding for so long. But... I'm not afraid anymore. 

When he answers the phone at midnight and listens to your crazy irrational fears and waits until you're calm enough to sleep before saying goodnight, even though he has to be up at 4:30am... its worth the risk. When he sits down and forces you, via Skype, to get out of your funk because he won't just stand there and let you drown all alone... its worth the risk. Yes. Yes, my Anthem is worth it.

The thing that keeps tripping me up is simply that to melt, you have to be still. I'm not good at being still. I'm not good at gifts. And here I have an amazing gift, my Anthem, and need to be still and trust. Because I can't even figure out a way to get him here, to me, let alone how to melt. I've got to just let go and let God. Ugh. I really suck at that. But. Just like I tell... a friend who I'm not going to make up a name for... we can't control a week from now. We can't control tomorrow. One moment at a time is all we have. And this moment, I'm letting go and trusting. And enjoying the life, the man, and the friends He has given me without ruining them with stress and worry.

Day Three Hundred and Ten - More And More

I've always hated the phrase, "I love you more and more each day." Because I always sort of thought it was total bull. If you really love someone, you can't love them more. You might be able to show them that you love them better, but the amount of love... would be the same. 

I was totally wrong. Perfect love from a perfect person doesn't change. Since my love is not perfect, nor am I, it does. It can actually grow as I do. How do I know? Why, I'm glad you asked. Because, rather like the Grinch, my heart has grown at least three sizes in the past two weeks. And each day I am more capable of loving truly, freely, and without fear. What I have found the most shocking isn't that I can truly love more each day as I am grown in love, but that each day I love myself more as well. 

It's truly mind blowing. The more we are loved, the more we can love. The more we let ourselves be loved, the more we are loved. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. What I do know is that there is no going back from this. This is the sort of thing that changes you, forever. This is the sort of thing you wait for your whole life. This is the sort of thing you never let go of, not ever. This is the sort of thing that fills your heart to bursting, that unstops your mouth and lets you sing praise in the sweetest voice that has ever passed your lips. Hear me sing, now. And never try to stop me, not ever ever again. 

Day Three Hundred and Nine - Me Too

"If you have big dreams, in order to fit into your life, I must have small ones."

I'm not sure when I learned this, but it's something I've been living by for a few years now. And it's totally and completely wrong. My dreams do not have to be small to fit into the world of the larger dreamers. I do not have to be shelved or accomplish my dreams in the margins of the novel of another life. Screw that. 

My dreams are big too. I want to be a writer. I want to be the next J.K. Rowling. Because her story of love and friendship and hope reached millions upon millions of lives - kids and adults alike. Because she encouraged an entire generation to start reading, and made them fall in love with it. J.K. Rowling did for children's literacy what Jane Austen did for romantic novels. And I want to keep that tradition going, with kids and adults alike.

I have no idea why I've been putting them in such a small box for so long. But I know that I'm not going to anymore. The thing about being stretched, is that there is more room to fill up than there was before. Though, it leaves you more vulnerable. I'll take the trade. It's worth it. And I know it's worth it because... the more I reveal my big dreams, the more Anthem is stepping up next to me and saying, "Yes. Yes, I'll fight for your dreams too. I don't care what they are. They're yours. And so they're precious. And so I'll fight for them with you." 

Being in the world of a big dreamer just means that now you have someone that will help you fight for your dream, just as you'll help them fight for theirs. It just means you're not alone. It just means that someone will look at your dreams, smile, and say, "Me too."

Day Three Hundred and Eight - Push Through

Sometimes, when things get hard, we need to take a break, build our strength back up, and give it another go round. Sometimes, we need to push through. Today, I'm at a push through point. Even good things take energy, and I'm running pretty low. This waiting game I'm playing with Madison is slowly driving me insane, and my wonderful, amazing Anthem is opening my mind to so many horizons I'd never even considered that I'm fighting a hell of a migraine. But this... this is not one of those times to back down and recoup. This is one of those times to dig deep. How do I know? Cause I don't have a choice.

There is no 'regrouping' from the waiting game. Not unless I miraculously stop caring about the Madison job. Which, since I don't play the lottery and have no incredibly wealthy relatives on their deathbeds (or really incredibly wealthy relatives period), isn't about to happen this week. And Anthem? I admit I feel like I need to nap more when I'm around him, but I love the fact that he's so full of life. I love the fact that he wants so much out of this short life. I have no doubt that I'll get used to it, it's just a bit of a stretch right now. A good stretch. The kind that makes you itch for even more life. And I have no doubt that more and more life is exactly what's in front of me. I've been too still for too long. My joints seem to have forgotten how to run, and Anthem is helping me run again. I just hope he's ready for what will come when I shake off all the dust.

Push push push until you come out on top. When your back is against the wall, when there is no where else to go, forward is the only direction. Push, push, push until the path clears and even then... just keep running. Especially if you have someone by your side. I've never been alone, and I see that now. The OSM, Erica, Tex, my heterosexual lifemate, Honky, The Ghost, and so many more. And now Anthem.

Thank you for pushing, thank you for pulling, thank you for loving. Because now I have the strength to push through... now I have the strength to run again.