Today, I talked to a dear, dear friend who is not sure whether to call her almost-relationship quits or commit. I won't lie to you, I don't miss those days, but it's nice to know that I can give advice.
On January 22, 2009, I cried myself to sleep. I cried harder than I'd ever cried in my entire life, feeling my heart break into a million little pieces from failures, lost loves, and uncertainty. Facing a total breakdown, I wrote a semi-epistle for the reasons that I did not, and would not, ever fall in love like other people. I was determined. I was good at by and by, fleeting love affairs with ideas, men, and dreaming, but I knew I would never be a lover like every girl dreams about. It just wasn't my thing. I thought love was on a need-only basis, and I did not need love. I already had too much going on.
The next night, Mr. C. came up to me at a party and talked to me for hours, and I went to bed laughing.
My husband is the best friend I have ever had, the most caring person I have ever known, and more fun than I could ever imagine. How would I explain him in a few words? Wonderful, goofy, funny (but not THE funniest), smart, religious, happy, and oh-so-good-to-me.
I asked him how he would describe me. His answer? A hot free-spirit. (Ha, Ha)
So HERE'S to LOVE!!