"Are you happy being my girlfriend?" He asks. In all seriousness. In all honesty. He asks. Never once have I been asked such a damned difficult question. Never once have I been asked that slight simple question. Never once have I been asked THAT question.
Immediately, my head goes a thousand different directions. I want to give him the most honest answer. But lately I feel as though I am trying to quantity my happiness. Yes. I. Am. Happy. But what is happiness? Am I? Can I honestly say that I am happy? I don't know.
Before I make an ass out of myself, I must say this: not one time in the history of Aly and men has she ever felt like her significant other was shelter. You know that line from Finding Nemo where Dory says to Marlin, "When I look at you, I remember. When I look at you, I am home." That's the way I feel when I am in his arms. Home. Perhaps it best not to tell him such a bold thought, but it's true.
Back to this question. Am I happy being his girlfriend? Well, I certainly am not unhappy. I finally feel like I have the ability to look someone in the eyes, air my confused grey-mattered mind, and still be safe from the outside world. That's certainly a first for me. In all the tumultuous relationships I have had, not once did I feel as though I was something that would stay a priority. And in the end of those relationships, I wasn't a priority. I became second. Second to his career...second to another girl...second to his own confusion. Always and forever second place.
Not with white boy. Nope. I am his... priority. What an honor. So why is it so hard to answer such a question as this? Was I fully ready to be his girlfriend? Probably not. Do I regret saying yes. Absolutely not. Would I do it again? In an instant. I will admit sometimes the idea of being a girlfriend feels somewhat like being captured. Other times it feels warm and fuzzy. I told the brown one that I was fighting him for his heart. Sadly, and this breaks my heart, white boy is fighting me for mine. It's like I have this vice grip around my heartstrings and I don't want him to get too close. For reasons I am still working on. So, when he asked if I was happy being his girlfriend, all I could do was whisper: "I don't know."
All I know, is that everyday I wake up liking him more and more. All I know, is that everyday I have no fear he is leaving. All I know, is that I am eager with a little anxiousness thrown in to see where this goes. All I know, is that my "I don't know" will probably soon be a "hell yes!"
Immediately, my head goes a thousand different directions. I want to give him the most honest answer. But lately I feel as though I am trying to quantity my happiness. Yes. I. Am. Happy. But what is happiness? Am I? Can I honestly say that I am happy? I don't know.
Before I make an ass out of myself, I must say this: not one time in the history of Aly and men has she ever felt like her significant other was shelter. You know that line from Finding Nemo where Dory says to Marlin, "When I look at you, I remember. When I look at you, I am home." That's the way I feel when I am in his arms. Home. Perhaps it best not to tell him such a bold thought, but it's true.
Back to this question. Am I happy being his girlfriend? Well, I certainly am not unhappy. I finally feel like I have the ability to look someone in the eyes, air my confused grey-mattered mind, and still be safe from the outside world. That's certainly a first for me. In all the tumultuous relationships I have had, not once did I feel as though I was something that would stay a priority. And in the end of those relationships, I wasn't a priority. I became second. Second to his career...second to another girl...second to his own confusion. Always and forever second place.
Not with white boy. Nope. I am his... priority. What an honor. So why is it so hard to answer such a question as this? Was I fully ready to be his girlfriend? Probably not. Do I regret saying yes. Absolutely not. Would I do it again? In an instant. I will admit sometimes the idea of being a girlfriend feels somewhat like being captured. Other times it feels warm and fuzzy. I told the brown one that I was fighting him for his heart. Sadly, and this breaks my heart, white boy is fighting me for mine. It's like I have this vice grip around my heartstrings and I don't want him to get too close. For reasons I am still working on. So, when he asked if I was happy being his girlfriend, all I could do was whisper: "I don't know."
All I know, is that everyday I wake up liking him more and more. All I know, is that everyday I have no fear he is leaving. All I know, is that I am eager with a little anxiousness thrown in to see where this goes. All I know, is that my "I don't know" will probably soon be a "hell yes!"
Well said with honesty and vulnerability. Might i offer a new way to view this? You are fully deserving of happiness. The Creator placed the white boy in your life for a reason. The Creator kkows your heart and what it needs. Trust in that, pray on it and let the fear go. See what new experiences this path will offer you.
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ReplyDeleteFor your nerdiness. Fr. Spitzer has a book on the subject. Find it here
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