NOT a Damn Damsel
Earlier in this semester, when I was creeping through Facebook, I contacted one of my friends that I had met during Marching Band, and I asked him to watch over and be kind to the boy I love.
That sounds a little ballsy to me in hindsight, but that’s what happened.
This friend was a man of patience and kindness that I met as a freshman. I knew he was Christian before I asked, and he gave me rides from Marching Band all the way to where I lived miles away on the other side of campus literally every practice.
You see, I took the bus and I walked to Marching Band. Like today, I did not have a car. And also, I’ve always kind of sucked at Marching Band; clarinet was not my first tongue and honestly, I’d rather be dancing than looking like part of a team of strenuous marchers anyways. I was much heavier then, I had yet to lose my medication weight from the depression. And he was always kind.
We talked a lot about Jesus. We talked a lot about life, and he was probably the first man I knew to listen to my ideas on a daily basis and call them beautiful. THAT IS A BIG DEAL, OK? Like seriously. Welcome to the world.
He is kind in a way that rubs off on his peers. He is kind in a very slow to anger, steadfast, run the course and be nice kind of way. You can tell from his derpy Facebook posts that his family is like that too; they’re pranking style is something I aspire to with my own someday, and they crack me up. We have a lot of the same kind of derpy meme humor about Jesus and failing out of college. So yes. I asked.
And the extracurricular activity that he and that boy share made that conveniently possible. Now, I’m not saying that I had any real effect on all that because fuck if I know, but I am saying that God set that up perfectly (among other things).
I asked him to say absolutely nothing. Because he is one of the few men in this world I would trust to speak for me and not over me if something bad ever happened, I know that his judgment is something I trust, even if we disagree and I know that if he hears the Holy Spirit asking him to do something, he will do so. So I checked that off my mental crazymaking tally, and moved forward.
If you love someone, you want them to be surrounded by good company. There is no one in this entire world that I would want Him to learn from more than this kind, steadfast man. It is just that way.
I knew that my fellow Marching Bander would listen to me when I said I knew I was going to marry this boy. He did. He also chose not to respond when I said that I was wrong (I wasn’t wrong, but I was certainly scared). Patience and kindness go without words, and he didn’t give any when I was afraid. That is why I trust him.
I can’t think of anyone more deserving of praise than the man I met in Marching Band, who was kind to me when I was pretty alone on campus, and who remains one of the most humble and patient people I know. You know a tree by it’s fruit, and the fruit of the Holy Spirit are simple: kindness, patience, loyalty, humility, et. al. He is like that, and he is a blessing to those with whom he keeps company. And honestly my friends, not many men I know my age have risen above their childishness in such a way as he. I am proud to call him my friend, and I am glad to know that he and the boy I like have at least a warm relationship on Facebook, or at least did before I un-friended the boy I love.
I didn’t just take him off my Facebook, I deleted his number and blocked it too. Do you want to know why I did that?
He needs to be the one to try to start to fix this. I believe that firmly. I believe it because he thinks he sucks at being a leader in general, and especially more when it comes to making a move with girls he has a romantic interest in. It’s not that he’s shy or weak in any way, but he does like to mean the things he commits too, and I respect that. And I know that he is independent in a way (like me) that WILL NOT LISTEN to anyone unless he wants to. His ego is the same as mine, it’s not all or nothing, but it can be pretty huge. And for that reason, even if he is convicted otherwise, I’m setting an example and giving him the time and space he needs and can’t ask for.
This serves several purposes. On the one hand, there is a lot to rise above at this point, and if he can, then that act alone tells me he is worthy of me being miserable this entire time, because it will mean he loves me enough to fight for me, and he hasn’t done that.
One the other hand, he needs it for him. He needs to know that he is a Leader, he needs to know how strongly God plans on using him, and he needs to see it, because otherwise he will doubt it. I can do that, I’ve been doing that this entire time. But more importantly, he needs to see it in himself. I know it’s there, I see it when I look at him. For him to move forward and embrace the future and his personal destiny, he needs to grow up. And I know he can do it.
Well, I still believe pretty firmly that we will end up together; that doesn’t change. But I can’t tell you how shitty it would be to be in a relationship with someone who didn’t care enough to be bold like this, especially after all that. I know what lukewarm looks like; remember: I know divorce. I know what fear is like; I see it all the time.
If this is the one thing that made me utterly fearless, then I know it will have the same effect on him if we are truly meant to be together. And shit, that is more than enough.
I used to be afraid to experience my emotions in all their vividness. People have called the way I see everything “broken” since I was an infant, including people in my family (who I also love). Forgiving him meant forgiving them. And literally, forgiving everything else that had led up to triggering the enormous insecurities (that were better left fought alone, with Jesus).
Fear is the antithesis of Love, and I know that now because I have fought for it, even if women aren’t supposed to be heroines. Fuck that. Can you think of anything more painful and bold as to give birth to children?? All that pain, zero of the appreciation, thank you Eve. No man, I know how this business works, and I knew it intuitively from the minute I met him; I was born knowing how to play this game, they don’t call it unfair for nothing.
He on the other hand, he needs to fight to clarify what he needs, who he is, what he loves in the world. And from his specific situation, that may be a hard pill to swallow.
But I love him. I believe in him. If he chooses to go the other direction, I’m still going to love him and believe in him, because I can’t get rid of this, and finally, I’m okay with that. If you want patience, holla at ya girl. Apart from that, shut up. We both don’t know how this will turn out, and screw everything if I haven’t tried all things to try to find out. There is no rushing this. It is.
And in the meantime, I’m just gonna do me and radiate out that love I fought for in this, and see what the hell happens. The YOLO method works every time folks, and even if “works” is not my favorite definition on this (which would be him), then at least my faith isn’t shaken. And at the end of the day, isn’t that what you’d want of the person that fell in love with you, come hell or high water? Unless you’re a psychopath, wouldn’t it be a blessing for the person that loves you to remain peaceful and calm under the wake of your indecision, even if it doesn’t result in a happy ending?
I thought so. If he were to show up, I would say literally nothing, because there is nothing for me to say over this; it just is. I would probably try to hug him though. That’s been a couple months craving, let me tell ya.
And from the girl that wakes up every day and asks God if today will be the day he finally works up the courage, I’ve got some time. Seriously. Try me, I do. I messaged him early on in this that I could beat him at a silence contest if it were a race. Look who’s laughing now; it certainly isn’t me. If you don’t think God has a sense of humor, then you probably aren’t doing it right. I said that because I knew that it was convicted, and back then folks, I was a blabbermouth and was not willing to sit still. That changed. And as I casually sat mulling this last night before I slept, I realized that between August 25th and December 25th, there are four months exactly. Well, thank you for making that sync up, Jesus. I’d share some of the stuff I wrote on the first day, but damn, that wouldn’t even be worth it nearly as much if he didn’t read it first. And that is where I stand: clueless as shit and YOLO-ing my life. It’s like a yoyo: Will it come back? Your guess is as good as mine, homie. It just is.
When you think about love, don’t you think about fairy tales? About redemption, redeeming the odds, mastering fears, that sort of shit? Because I certainly do. And even if I only dress as a princess at Church, isn’t that kind of the point? I am a princess, because I was grafted in to the family of God. Apart from that, it’s a wait-and-see kind of Christmas Season, and until I did that little casual calculation yesterday, I had no idea that December 17th was where we were at on the calendar. I’ve been living like it was November for weeks, because time is not my friend in the first place, and I just wanted this semester to be over. Now that I finally have a few cents to spare when it comes to the calendar, I’m just derping along ‘til I discover a little more direction, from the Holy Spirit, which is the boss I’d like to be employed by for the rest of my professional career. Screw College, follow Jesus, that’s all I’m sayin’. I’m finishing out my degree because I have to in order to go many of the places he could call me, and I know that I’m just gonna make the rest up as I go. I’d like to do that with the boy I love, because I get the feeling it will be the same. But whatever YOLO, this is my life, and if this is what it’s like to be a 21st century princess, then I’m breaking off pieces of my crown to scatter like a shitty rendition of Mean Girls throughout the entire Earth. In terms of outfits, let’s get real: if anyone could pull it off, it’d be me.