This is not an apology.

I am the strangest girl I know.
It’s okay if you can’t understand.
(It is?)

This year was underlined with an unexpected design.
I know God has been preparing me all my life for the things I have learned since the last time the summer came.

God.

I rewrote the book on who my ideal man is.
And rewrote
And rewrote
I found him.
But not all in one man.
He was spread out between those who came into my focus.
They came and left
at indefinable paces.

No one wants to ache for someone-- only to find out that
he was my teacher.
it was my lesson.
Not forever. Not the answer. Not what I proclaimed.

The odd part is—I had no idea I was learning so much about relationships. Only recently have I realized that that was this year’s reoccurring theme.

When I try to explain, the general reply is
“I don’t get it.”
“I’m not sure you’ll ever find it.”
“You’re just really… different.”

I am.

Some days it makes me free.
Some days it makes me alone.
All days: I believe.

* * *
There is one more thing I want to say about all this. What do I know about all this anyway? Almost nothing. But this is my blog, so you’ll probably get over it. Here it comes.

At some point you cross the line. Then, he is part of you.
“I am down for the count with this boy,” you say.

In the movies, sometimes in real life, this is the part where he says “I’ll never leave you.” People say that to each other to eliminate the risk. The risk is what we fear. The risk is why we back away. The risk is what we cannot actually, ever, eliminate. If you knew he would never leave you—of course you’d stay. Of course you’d let him be a part of you. You would not be scared, you would not become cold and hard and hesitant. But it would not be love, because there would be no sacrifice.

“I’ll never leave you.”
This is not beautiful.

Here’s what is:
“Someday I might not know where you live, or what you look like. Someday you may be gone. I’m staying anyway. Today I see who you are. I feel you. I am willing to turn myself inside out, to let you all the way in. When the selfish survivor in me wants to eradicate my need for you, to be cold and hard and safe, I will fight it to keep you. You are worth the change. I am sacrificing my complacency with being alone, to fight for something better with you. For the chance that you’ll never leave.”

What do I know about all this anyway?
Almost nothing.