Peace (Thinking of Christmas and that boy I love)
I’m going to say a few words about this, because I know it needs said, and there are many people my age on up that think testing people you love is a decent strategy to figure out where you stand.
I put a lot of value in love. I hope that seems relatively obvious at this point, if you are reading this blog, but trust me: it’s true.
When you like somebody, what do you do? I’m not asking because I have no idea at this point, I’m asking because no one has any clue, and never let anyone tell you otherwise.
We are all born into this world broken, alone little meat sacs into our respective families. I think the word is “infant”. We may not be blank slates in terms of genetics, personality, and natural predispositions and happinesses, but we are us. It just is. We can argue about whether or not nature or nurture has more of an influence, or even epigenetics, which is like an inception third factor that makes it even more confusing, because it’s a factor that basically states that it is so early and unknown that we couldn’t for sure know even if we wanted to. Funny how that works, I wonder why there are three…
But anyways. I talk to my friends a lot about this topic, and I will be the first to admit that there is a lot of shame attached to the role of romance counselor when you don’t date and never have and you still know you’re right. It just hasn’t worked out yet, and the trust that is built upon that between you and God (if you give him credit) will be a lot like Sarah and Isaac; trust me. It’s the waiting on something that you will only endure to see if you do it in the name of love, knowing it will last. It is really, really hard; trust me: I know.
This is not a casual business. When you love someone, the insecurities will come out of the woodwork like the nobody’s business they still give. They will almost engulf you if you aren’t careful. Things like physical attributes, personality traits, actions, weeeird behaviors and most of all, fear will try to silence you like a leaden pillow, even if you are absolutely sure that it will not go away.
As you get older, you accumulate various scars. These are unavoidable; they just happen. You become “wiser” of things that have hurt you; it’s a lot like Child Development Psychology. You have to make mistakes to learn, and you have to learn to take more calculated risks, and it’s really scary as a whole (and painful), this growing up business.
If you have friends, good; I hope they last and that they are healthy for you. If you have family, trust me: I wish the same thing for you, because not everyone does. I hope that your family does everything that families are supposed to do for you: they are supposed to love you, support you, teach you, humble you, and make you stronger by confronting the things you can’t otherwise so that you can bring healing to the scars you left each other, as fellow broken meat sacs. That is just how it works. None of us is perfect, we all make mistakes, and if you believe in Jesus, then you also believe no one will be punished for those mistakes if they claim his name and believe in it.
In my experience, I couldn’t believe in my family until I really loved God (through Jesus). Now, there was a lot to get over. I will never disclose most of it, ever. The thing is, when you love someone, you don’t protect them from themselves, but you make sure to help guard their heart from the world. Not the good parts. Not the necessary battles and insecurities and failures. But the parts that will hurt them in such a way that will blind them to the truth, and that truth is love.
I fell in love this semester. If you haven’t already guessed from the 177 blog posts (lol I had no idea until I looked last night) that I have written since August (never having previously blogged lololllolol), you will know that that has taken a lot of my patience, faith, endurance, and God’s goodness to allow to happen.
When they say that you have to have a certain amount of love for yourself to let yourself fall in love, it’s true. When they say that you have to work through your insecurities; that too is true. When they say that you will need to give up control, that third statement is also true.
What they always fail to mention is that there is really no set order if you love someone very, very much.
You can work through your insecurities, yes, that will always be a work in progress. You can let it all happen (in terms of opening your heart to risk), which is something I recommend because if you really love someone, there’s no chance in hell you’re going to be able to shake it. And lastly but in whatever order it comes up, you can let go of control.
That doesn’t guarantee you anything. It will be good for you, but obviously as anyone who knows about Jesus and Salvation can tell you, you can’t ever make anyone love you. Love is a gift. I’m not saying that I didn’t know that going into this, but I am saying that there is a certain set of realizations that have to be experienced to fully understand.
When I am unsure but not upset, I like to think through scenarios of events that will happen, given certain circumstances and decisions. It doesn’t work when I’m upset; I can’t see clearly. But when I am sure and secure in where I am at, I like to think.
There are various scenarios scrolling around up there given wherever I am at any given point of the day, but I will speak of several most popular scenarios currently:
The boy I love takes his time. He eventually makes a move. He eventually decides to take responsibility for his actions. We watch a lot of derpy movies. He accepts that I love him and I never asked for it. It just turns into whatever it does, and it is a blessing to us two because it simply happened. Keep in mind, I love him enough to know that I’d be pretty down to never want to love anyone else and I’ve felt like that would be how it happened since I was a kid. But I want him to have his entire choices in this, and I know for a fact that I will need to know for sure. So yeah, he can take as much time as he needs.
He takes none of my time ever again. He dates somebody else. He marries somebody else. He has somebody else’s babies. He grows old with somebody else. He dies, buried next to somebody else. He never thinks of me again, or if he does, he doesn’t believe that I could have ever loved him even a sliver as much as I always have.
I’m going to tell you right now that I have had almost four months to come to complete terms with those. Most people come to terms with those over the span of a life time. Some people come to terms with those over the dotted line of divorce paperwork (I am so, so sorry. I know how much that hurts. It will be okay, and I have no right to say that, but I promise that someday it won’t hurt quite so much, and only time and God will ever do that). Some people come to terms with that when they die alone. Some people come to terms with that when they have cancer, or when they watch their spouse or children die slowly because they have no control. Some people come to terms with that when they are born again, or when they are afraid, or on a daily basis like I do.
What do you get the man that has everything except you?
Time. Space. Patience. Love. All of the things he hasn’t asked for but definitely needs. Prayers.
And that is it.
I have forgiven a lot in my day, but it’s funny, because after this, the rest seems like it would be coasting. I don’t know if that will be true, but it was never acting for me ever. None of the good. None of the bad. Just love.
I know it like I’ve always known it, and the best thing about all of this is that I won’t know it less tomorrow. I won’t know it less on Christmas. I won’t know it less 50 years from now. It’s not a “less” kind of thing.
Another best part about this is that he has failed in every conventional test of “dating” that I could ever imagine, all at the same time. That cracks me up to no end; I never believed in them anyways, and this just proves it. I still love him. What then to your garbage tests? Still love him. Gonna keep praying for him. I know this won’t go away. What else do you want to test?
You could test whether his genetics and my genetics will make super babies that will never have health problems.
You could test whether or not he will die before or after me, or if when we turn into old people, if we will be nearly as cute as the old people that walk all around the Campanile and hold hands and literally look like Love Birds you could buy at Petworld.
You could test whether or not anyone was right (hint: they weren’t).
You could test whether God is laughing his butt off right now. Good luck, though. I like to think he was behind all this no matter what happens, and truly, I do. But more than anything, I believe that whatever happens is his jurisdiction only, and I still love that boy. So, the wait and see and YOLO method finally have aligned and this is what happened. And funny thing, I’m completely okay with it.
At the end of the day, I’m still going to know immediately if he’s lying to me. Like, just don’t. I still don’t know if he reads this, but there’s a certain catharsis in talking about it, because it’s true and I’m not afraid of talking about it, and even if nobody reads it or believes it, who the fuck cares? Like seriously, if you only believe in love stories when they are printed and not in your friend group or social circle or strangers, why do you believe in love stories? Isn’t there some part of you that would want to believe in something like this, even if it’s like a fairytale? Because that part of me that was a cynic had to completely self-destruct to let any of this happen, and let me tell ya, that was no short order.
But I do love him. I have since literally the first day, and all of this emotional bullshit I never really wanted has made me into the person I never had enough balls to just accept that I am. It is just that way. It’s funny, because when you can read someone like I can read him and you see the person you are when you look at that person’s eyes, and you know that that is the person you’ve always wanted to be anyways, you know something is up. Well shit, I guess I’m there. But really, I cuss for the fun of the words, I’m so okay with this you have no idea. And that is the weirdest feeling in the world, or at least it was like 5 days ago. To know that you should have no right to feel anything like this. It’s a lot like Salvation.
If my faith grows from loving him and not even knowing him, what then? Either it was a very clever turn of events by God, or it is whatever those crackpot true love people are talking about. Well. Okay. I accept those odds.
But I also believe in him. I really really do. I pray for him pretty often. And I know that in the wake of all of this, God will care for him, especially because I can’t. He will be protected because God will make sure of that. However he wants to live his life, there will be this safety net around him because I asked, and I know God will follow through. It’s weird, because even if he chose to marry someone else, he would still have that love that wasn’t free and those prayers. And for me at least, to know that he will be safe and happy, that is literally enough.
I never believed that any of this was possible, but it is. I know it is when I look at him, and especially when I don’t. I know because it is easy. Only crush I’ve ever had that I didn’t have to fake. The only one that made me ridiculously calm by being in the same 500 feet orbit. The only one that helped heal my friends and family through being kind and having to work for that kindness through faith in God despite all these circumstances. The only one.
The first day I met him, he caught my attention by telling me straight up that I was wrong. Completely wrong. Now, normally I would have shredded somebody. But I thought it was hilariously cute, because I loved him to pieces. Don’t ask me why. It just is.
Now, I wasn’t really wrong. Lollolol I don’t even remember the question, but there was no way I was wrong.
However, he did catch my attention. He stood up for himself. I thought it was hot. And that is all that I really remember, other than the way he said his derpy name like it was flowers.
God couldn’t have made this shit any more funny, just ask my friends. Seriously, life before this, who would have ever thunk it.
Well, all the haters can shut up now, because there is nothing to say regardless. They’re not really haters anyways, their just other fellow cynical broken meat sacs. And that is where we stand: derpy and clueless and bored and almost Christmas (if you celebrate it) together. On the one hand, I would love to have an ABCfamily Christmas where he shows up and all that stupid shit. I’d love to have one where he showed up and said nothing. But more than anything, I’d love to know for certain that when he does show up, if he does show up, it’s true. All of it. Like, every single thing. I will know it immediately. And that is where I’m hedging my bets: with God. Not with me. Not with him. With the big guy upstairs that brings all the gifts no matter how you’d like to slice it. Let’s just see what happens.
Because finally, over all of this, every bit and piece: there is peace.