**Unfortunately this is my only posted post of the month of January. As always I have the rough drafts in a safe place, but getting through certain situations has delayed my ability to be on the computer much for what I love and other work as well. I’m working it all out, but decided that on days when I’m not going to be able to post something new I will do a sort of flash-back scenario. Of course my older readers know in one week (February 7th through the 13th) I will be doing my Valentine’s-themed posts. There is a lot to catch up on, but it all won’t be posted in one day.**
The word love gets thrown around a lot. Even with the name of my blog, The Love-Cracked Chronicles, I am admitting that I have been in love at least once and heartbroken just the same. In my own experience, it has been more than that, but that’s just my personality. I have grown to be extremely self-aware wondering why I think, feel, or behave the way I do with the decisions that I make. Being interactive with peoplT helps me along the way because I also gain different perspectives. While I always consider the source, it is still refreshing and humbling to listen to others’ objective views of how who they think I am.
Having said that there are so many things that have happened within the past six months. It seems pretty obvious as 180 days are quite a long time, half a year and all, but the time is really starting to fly by. Just one year ago I was degreeless, wondering if it was really going to happen (like it would just pop up out of thin air or something). The struggle was definitely real as I didn’t even have a car to get back and forth to class, yet I had to pick up children to and from school while managing to fit my dream into the stress also known as my life.
As things started to piece themselves together, I was focused on my personal attitude and demeanor towards the many road blocks that popped up and planted themselves in the middle of my goals planned throughout the year. They were very disappointing, but made me take a step back and reevaluate things. I had to learn how to really make the most of a bad situation and take responsibility for what I could instead of expecting someone else to admit when they were wrong and make it alright. In the end, that wasn’t so hard a bite to swallow, and I was proud of myself for it. I started managing my disappointments a lot more smoothly. This was good. But as time and opportunities opened up for me to focus on other things, I realized there was something or someone that was missing—me being a hopeless romantic at heart, I wanted a companion. Someone to spend my time with. Someone to talk to, share with, and just let my hair down. I began to worry.
Not just about whether I was going to ever have that type of experience in my life—ever, but when he came around and we started to get to know each other a lot better, things started to click in a very positive way. The story’s plotline then changed. It was now about whether or not I was going to be able to keep my promise to myself for 2011—would I actually be able to stay single for the rest of the year? Did the title boyfriend or girlfriend really matter that much? Was he being for real? I was freaking out. The microscope zoomed in on a much larger magnification. I had to be sure I was doing the right thing and not making a huge mistake as I had with all my other relationships—I could not allow myself to move too fast. It wasn’t easy, and honestly, a lot of times I think the conversations he and I had about relationships in general kept me planted firmly on the ground. I wanted to keep a promise to myself to not get too involved and fall head over heels before I really knew who I was dealing with. I’m grown now. Living in a fantasy world is for little girls still dreaming of their Prince Charming or street rat, Aladdin. Either way I’m not a little girl, and I realize those men are already taken by their gorgeously animated counterparts so I let the fantasies go.
Before I knew it the rest of the year had flown by. We spent so much time together it just felt natural. I didn’t want to leave his side, and I started to watch my behaviors and thoughts more closely since I was dealing with someone I could consider building a future with. We had our difficult times of course, but my heart was set. Feelings started compounding and I was happier than ever to be around him. Just in the same building. We didn’t even have to be in the same room. Either way, I could feel his presence and that was all that mattered. I didn’t know how to describe it, but I didn’t want to call it love.
I’ve been in love before. People in love act stupid sometimes. They use it as an excuse to go completely out of their minds. I didn’t want to be that person. I wanted to be conscious of my choices. I didn’t want to anyone’s victim or martyr. I decided to remain completely cognitive at all times to make sure (as much as possible) I didn’t have the option to say, “Well, so-and-so made me do it.” I wanted to take all the blame.
Even though that’s what I wanted, I couldn’t take all the blame for it. He just kept being great to me. All the times we spent together the timeline grew longer and longer. Goodbyes were harder. Hellos grew even sweeter. His compliments continued to genuinely come even though we were months in. I changed, he was still happy. I was quirky, he was sweet. He was kind—I was smitten. I believed him. I trusted him. I wanted to say I loved him. But something held me back. Even though I know myself and how I respond to these types of feelings, I wanted to be completely sure. Honestly, I’m still not entirely positive how to tell if you really love someone through thick and thin before you’re thoroughly tested. And the requirements for what people believe love to be are different than many others. Humans change every day. Stuff happens. We fall after a bad accident, and bump our heads. Then we catch amnesia. Highly unlikely, but I’m just saying…
As strongly as I felt about it I had to tell him something. So with little hearts beating out of my irises a thousand miles a minute I looked at him, gushed, and said, “I adore you.” And I meant it.
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