"You're right... your apartment
is a lot more sloppy when I'm here."
The Guy and I are sitting on my living room couch, comfy and cozy and watching TV on a Friday night. He's referring to a conversation we had a few days ago about our opposite styles.
I scan the living room. His sneakers are in the middle of the floor; his jeans are also in the middle of the floor -- right next to his sneakers. (He's wearing basketball shorts people... get your minds out of the gutter.) The contents of his backpack have somehow spilled out onto the floor; and his coat never made it's way to the closet.
It's almost as if he's never been introduced to a hanger. Or a closet. Like...
ever. I mean, I'm pretty sure hangers and closets were on strike the day his mother (who's a very lovely person, by the way) was teaching him how to clean up after himself. To say that he's tidy-challenged is an understatement. To me, he's kind of a slob. It's bad -- Michael Jackson bad -- and it drives me crazy.
But I'm trying not to sweat the small stuff and not major in the minor things. And that's just one of the things that I'm learning in this crazy little thing called love.
It's coming up on two years since I've changed my Facebook status to "In A Relationship," and even though I'm a total newbie at this thing, I gotta admit that I've been schooled once or twice (
or thrice!) along the way.
After being in a
toxic relationship for so long and playing the [sometimes fun, but
always exhausting]
dating game for so long, I gotta say: being in a healthy relationship feels...
nice. Safe. Comforting.
Warm-and-fuzzy-and-butterflies-in-my-stomach-because-he's-mine-all-mine good.
And I like it.
A lot.
Not just because it
feels good, but because I'm learning a lot. About myself. About him. About togetherness and teamwork and what it takes to maintain a healthy partnership.
I'm learning that to be in a true deep and loving relationship, it'll sometimes bring up things about me that are unlovable. Like when I'm being stubborn and unwilling to compromise. Or when I'm saying that everything is "fine," but I give him the silent treatment for an hour... or five. (#DontJudgeMe)
I'm learning to talk it out, to trust the process of becoming closer to another person, and trust that there is someone out there who'd love me. Regardless.
I learned to take the layers off and to take the makeup off and try --
just try -- to be
a little less guarded.
I'm
learning that he and I are not one and the same. We have different view
points on many, many, many things. But that's okay because we always see eye-to-eye
on the things that matter. Like church. And family. And being kind-hearted
people.
I'm learning to embrace who I am. Fully. With all of the layers and dimensions and feelings and emotions. To hold on to what makes me
me. To hold on to my friendships and to always remember the healing power of Girls Night Out. (#TrustMeOnThis)
I'm learning that I can be strong and independent and vulnerable... all at the same time. And that I can cry. Boy, can I cry! Sometimes loudly, sometimes uncontrollably, but always safely in front of him.
I'm learning to
ask for what I want before I get all worked up about what I
thought he should already know. (#ButHeCantReadMinds #ImJustSaying)
But
most importantly, I'm learning how to have true grit and resilience
with matters of the heart. You see, I've pretty much figured out how to do these things when it comes to being successful in life. But when it comes to love? Eh, not so much. But I'm learning. Everyday, I'm learning...
With him, there's been no guessing, no game-playing, no "what-ifs". There's no chasing or running around or wondering if this could be something special. It
is something special. I deserve something special.
I know this.
And I like it.
A lot.
Oh, and I'm gonna start referring to him as Hazel Eyes Babe. Because he's got the
most gorgeous hazel eyes ever. And because: vanity.
I look around the living room and see Hazel Eyes Babe's sneakers in the middle of the floor, his jeans right next to them, the contents of his backpack spilled out all over my floor, and his coat nowhere near a hanger.
I shrug, "I know... it
is more messy when you're here." Then I snuggle up next to him and feel safe and loved in his arms.
And I like this.
A lot.