In the two years that I've been writing this blog, I've found that when I'm really sad I don't write here. I tend to pull away because when someone posts something that is horribly sad, sometimes it's hard for readers to know what to do or how to show support. It's kind of like the lady that has a mental breakdown in a public place. You give her a wide berth, smile awkwardly, and then thank God that you're not like that.
But what I recently found out is that it's hard for me to write about the stuff I usually do when I'm blissfully happy. Because the thing is, I am.
Blissfully happy that is.
To be clear, it mostly has to do with the fact that I'm trusting myself more. Through hard work, I've begun to challenge core beliefs that I've had about myself...and I'm finding that I am worthy all on my own. What's replacing these horrible thoughts that I've had about me for decades is the knowledge that no matter what happens in life, I WILL BE OKAY.
(cue Stuart Smalley)
I'd be lying if I said that everything was perfect. It's not. I'm worried about money, about my house, about my job, and about my health. Some days I worry about things more than others.
But I also would be lying if I didn't say that there is one thing in my life that I couldn't be happier about if I tried.
His name is Joe.
And this is where you should feel free to turn your head, barf politely at my sickeningly sweet post, and then maybe read some more.
Y'all, HE IS WONDERFUL. In dozens of ways, this man SHOWS me that I am a top priority. He shows me that I'm worthy of love. His constant support and even keel approach is fantastic. He listens to my rambling and to my rants. He laughs at how I'm not patient. He teases me about my faults and doesn't judge me when I fall short of my goals. He's giving, caring, and thoughtful.
The things that I've thought about writing has been stuff so full of sugary fantasticness that I figured that you probably wouldn't want to read it. And all that wants to come out when I think about what's on my heart and mind is how cute he is when he's sleeping. I want to tell you about how when my furnace was broken this past weekend and the heat never got above 56 degrees, he let me cuddle next to him (in the frumpiest, bulkiest, and non-sexiest clothing I own) to sap all of his heat. I want to tell you about how sweet he was on Valentine's Day and how when he calls me the nickname he has for me, I still sigh and giggle a bit.
Let's be honest...no one should have to be subjected to that stuff.
I'm not doodling his name in notebooks while listening to the Jonas Brothers or Taylor Swift, but I'm close. Perilously close. THAT is how over the moon I am about this guy right now.
He isn't perfect. But oh WOW is he exactly what I've been hoping for.
A part of me is worried that it won't last, that he'll leave or become some asshole like my father or some of the boyfriends before him. But I'm reminding myself that nothing risked is nothing gained. And at 8 months into dating, it FEELS like there is less and less of a possibility of that happening. If it does end, this will probably be one of the biggest heartbreaks of my life.
But if it doesn't? Well, now THAT would be something to write about.
2 days ago