Category Archives: Love

Perhaps the better title of this post would be “everyone loves me.” But I thought that sounded a bit too egotistical. It’s true though. I have no enemies. People don’t dislike me. They meet me, they learn about me and they love me.

I think this is because I make their lives better. I listen, I make them laugh, I’m a good friend, sister, daughter, whatever. And people tell me this all the time. It’s amazingly touching. It’s also reaffirming because I always suspect that I am beneficial to others, but that they take the time to tell me proves it.

I am a lot of things, and not all of them are good, but it more than balances out in the end. It makes my life worth living, truly. It makes me glad to wake up in the morning and look forward to tomorrow.

The thing about this is that I don’t really try. I mean, I do, but it’s not like it’s difficult. What could feel better than knowing you’re a positive factor to those that you love — and knowing that everyone you’ve ever loved pretty much agrees — than the knowledge that you’re just naturally good at it?

I don’t know. Maybe nothing better exists, just like my enemies don’t.

There, I said it.

I mean, dating at 26 is weird because it’s the first time in my life I’ve actually done all the awkward do-I, does-he, do-we stuff in person. So there’s that.

And dating is weird when you’re divorced. I inevitably have to bring it up, to explain why and to detail my ex-husband’s role in my life (none). I feel pretty self conscious about that.

With Facebook? Dating is even weirder. I can’t quite say everything I want to say because even if the person I’m discussing isn’t on my friends list, someone who knows them is. Words spreads quickly in a small city like this.

Finally, dating is weird when you become romantically involved with people who have historically been your friend. I’d never expected to have to navigate that road. It’s just. Strange. It’s slow and awkward. It’s still fun and exciting, but you’ve got to be careful when becoming more-than-friends. In fact, I think this is trickier than dating someone who was previously a stranger. There’s just so much at risk.

So, you can guess what I’ve been doing from this post.

I think I have a crush.

After having spent some time away from my family, I find myself viewing their interactions and behaviors a bit more objectively. This outsider’s view of the atmosphere into which I was born and raised brings new awareness and answers a lot of questions. Specifically, it seems to explain just where all this fucked up came from, a thought that is somewhat consoling when I struggle with my anxiety and other negative mental habits.

For example, it’s easy to see how quickly people in my family become agitated. My aunt exemplified this as her brother worked on her car. A rather fun day, but one that was full of back and forths, was feeling long to her and she was becoming unhappy. In return, my uncle sensed this and became agitated himself. I found myself trying to play peacekeeper, to keep the mood light and upbeat but even being in the situation made me (at least seem) a little more agitated than I had realized. That’s another commonality we share: we tend to give the impression that we are more upset than we are.. Or perhaps we just operate at a level that is higher than most and seems odd to outsiders but that we are completely blind to.

Of course, observing my family gives some insight that is easy to overlook–at least, I find myself doing so–but that is also consoling in the best possible ways. Most of the people in my family have struggled–with finances, with parenting, with relationships, with things breaking, with people using them, with communicating. Yet, they always seem able to bounce back and so many of my loved ones are good at counting their blessings and remaining upbeat in the long run., even when the hand they’ve been dealt is on that outsiders might pity. I come from a family of people that is, more or less, content with the simple things in life and strives to be good people. In fact, the people in my family have always been willing to help another another out, to help me, when they were able. I’d like to think that all families are this loving but they are not.

When I was younger I always wanted more and better than what my family had. There’s no doubt things were difficult, especially with money, and that we all have room to grow, especially in terms of handling our frustrations productively, but it seems like we do so many things to the best of out ability, if not simply right.

Spending time with my family explain things. It explains me.

You know when you’re falling in love and every song suddenly becomes a love song? You pick out a line or two or even just a few words, even if the song obviously isn’t a love song, and those words somehow come to represent your entire being because you cannot possibly concentrate on anything other than the feeling of falling?

Yea, that’s where I am.