{Relationship Stories} On Learning to Be Loved. For Real This Time.

We're sitting on my living room couch on a Sunday evening talking about how much we like each other, the fun we have when we're together, and where we want this thing to do.

He, Hazel Eyes Babe (HEB) and I.

It's a couple weeks after our weekend trip to Atlanta and things have been good between us since coming back from the trip. Like really, really good. I still have a crush on him, and get butterflies and jitters whenever I know we're gonna see each other and we're in really strong like.

He asks me to be his girlfriend and I say, "Yes."

This is the beginning. Of something good. Of me learning that I deserve to be loved. Of me learning how to accept love. For real this time.

Not gonna lie, I went into my relationship with HEB kicking and screaming. Kinda. Sorta. Not because I didn't like him and think he'd be a great boyfriend. I did. And he is.

I wanted it, but I was scared. Kinda. Sorta. 

I wanted it, but I hesitated. I wanted it, but I was full of "what-ifs." I wanted it -- really badly -- but I was choosing fear over faith. Fear over love and healing and all things whole.

I wanted it, but I was kicking and screaming and fronting with my I'm-a-tough-girl-and-I-got-this pose.

But he.

He saw right through it and loved me with patience and kindness and all things whole. HEB always jokes about how he attributes the fact that we're even in a relationship to his persistance and perseverance, and I can't even lie -- it's true. Kinda. Sorta.

Being in a relationship with him forced me to do some heart-work, soul-work, and mind-work. Because I'm learning that I can't be happy with a closed-off heart. I'm learning how to open up my heart, how to have the strength to be vulnerable, and most importantly, how to do both of these things gracefully.

Because that's important.

I'm learning that the ghosts of my relationship's past don't need to affect my relationship's present. Or future. That my life history -- and my romantic history -- don't define me and shouldn't confine me. Not anymore. Not this time.

I won't put HEB on a pedestal or anything -- that kind of exaltation is only reserved for God. Matter of fact, he's far from perfect. He's sloppy and sometimes annoying and sometimes doesn't catch on to a joke fast enough. Which sometimes makes it very, very hard to crack inside jokes with him. (And that's something that I really, really love to do.)

He minimizes things that are a big deal to me. Sometimes. He's stubborn as hell. Sometimes. And he downright gets on my last nerve. Sometimes.

But he's caring and kind and loves patiently. And he challenges me to try to be better at this whole relationship thing. Most of the time.

And that's all I could really ask for.

And so.

Instead of kicking and screaming and fronting with my I'm-a-tough-girl-and-I-got-this pose, I'm deciding to look in the mirror, work on my heart and my soul and myself and embrace the love that I deserve.

For real this time.