Skip to main content

52 weeks of falling

  It was completely unassuming. I tend to be that way at times.
  On the night before my 30th birthday, he told me he had 2 questions for me: "How was I going to introduce him to my friends, and would I be his girlfriend." I was confused at the first, a little shocked at the second but said yes, and the rest was history.
  Until I couldn't take it. I was drowning in my own past hurts. Being his girlfriend was suffocating me, and I needed to get out. Around August last year I took it back. I told him I couldn't be his girlfriend just yet. It was a word that held too much weight and I couldn't be that. I truly thought he would take off and run away from me. There was a little hope that he would. But...instead since he knew I was a traditionalist and needed the formal asking, he asked me how he would know I was ready. I told him I would ask him the next time. If there was a next time.
   I had told him if I asked him, I would give him everything and at that point I believed we had a chance. There would be no going back. The next month and a half were mentally grueling. I was at war with my head and my heart. I knew this man would love and cherish me forever, but I couldn't stand the consistency. I had been in relationship after relationship with men who were hot one minute and cold the next. All I knew was dramatic fluctuations in feelings.
  September 11th, 2015, I decided to lay my fear aside. It was a fun day...putt putt golf, dinner, and a cool evening spent on his porch were delightfully nice. We had been going out on dates more, and he continued to woo me even though I told him I wasn't his any longer. I handed him a box with one question: "will you be my boyfriend?"
  I trembled inside for the fear that I knew what I was saying and what I was promising. I was giving him my forever. I was laying it in the hands of someone who would hold tight and dear the brokenness of my heart.
  One year ago, I asked him. One year. One year and he still holds my forever. I am blessed to have him and to call him mine. We are as different as the sun and moon, and yet we give each other light and beauty.   Baby bee, you are a godsend. I am so honored to be your fiancé and best friend. I struggle without you and find it harder to remember the state of my heart before you. Thank you for one trying, menacing, heartwrenching, glorious, and magical year. We are not perfect, but I find a small sliver of perfection when you hold my hand and call me yours. To another year... *cheer cheers**

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tiger must stay in your backpack...

   I'm not that parent. The one who gloats too much, and shows off all the pictures. The parent who relays every detail of their kid to let others know how incredible I think they are. Perhaps it is a flaw. Who knows. And I also pride myself in not being a helicopter parent. I teach and let go. I discipline and let go.    And I thought I would be ready for this: first day of Pre-K. I have been very positive and uplifting and have wanted my son to be extra ready to go to school. We have talked about it for months! I am ready... Or so I thought.  This morning, as white boy was leaving to take them to daycare, he said to Owen, "You can't take Tiger to school tomorrow or he will have to stay in your backpack, so do you want to take him to daycare today?" I thought little of it, but as Owen threw him down on the ground and turned to head out the door, my throat hitched. "Are you sure you don't want to take him today?" He said no. It was a sense of finality.  ...
Post a Comment
Read more

60 years ago is not the 1940s

  When you are born, you are lucky to get one day a year to celebrate just you. Well, you and all the others born on that day. When you become a mother or father, you get another day for just you. Sometimes those days come when you are not ready, and some come when you wish they wouldn't.   Today, 60 years ago, my mother was born. A date that means littler to most people I know than to her or me. As we age, and my mother is no different, our birthdays become just another cycle of the rising of the sun and a following of the moon. Nothing to make a big to do of.   My mother enjoys subtly. She can be dramatic but embraces the subtle acknowledgement of herself. She has ALWAYS placed herself second and counted the accolades of her children as if they were her own. That was one thing my mother NEVER lacked: humility. Which made me often sad she didn't get more than 2 days a year commemorating her.   Mom, I know I've come short. I know that I have openly and often faile...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sacred Requiem

  He handed me the hymnal and asked me if I was ready...if I could do this. To be honest, I had no idea what I was doing. I had never planned a funeral, and even if I had imagined planning one it sure wasn't this early in life and it sure wasn't for my only brother, my only sibling. At 25, I felt like a little child getting left behind in a sea of strangers. I was terrified.   2 days prior, my heart stopped beating. 2 short days before this, my peaceful world collided with the dark. And now I had to prepare for the world to say goodbye to greatness. The tree fell in the woods and the world shook with its sudden end. And we, as the collective, needed to imagine that very tree as the beautiful piece of woodwork it now was and bow to it's new exulted shape.   I wasn't sure how to plan a requiem. But, it had been placed in my hands and I wanted to give him the best I could. He deserved it. He deserved life...to live...to breathe still and chase every dream he thought into...
Post a Comment
Read more