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Wednesday, September 2, 2009

In which I attempt to crack the Lameness scale

I have a confession. I kinda hope Chip will end up being the man I marry.

It's ridiculous. I can't imagine ever being married to him. He's Indian! That's not the real reason, of course. That he is Indian provides us with the fact that his family background and thus upbringing is so similar to mine that adds to what we can relate on and brings us closer together. There are things that you can only understand if you are growing up in another culture so different to that whence your parents came.

The small ways in which he doesn't understand me that are of huge significance are a contribution. Considering this, he can read my most subtle face expressions with a scary degree of accuracy, pinpointing exactly what is happening in my mind. A faraway look and combined with his knowledge of my life and the situation and he can work out that I am missing the exbestfriend. There is more, much more, but how can I explain it all?

There are various little things that make me certain I could never spend my whole life with him.

And yet...

He sets a high standard. I can't detail the numerous little things he does that make me realise how much he cares about me; the way he texts me twice daily to remind me to take my vitamins, the way he kisses my scars like he wants to take away all the pain I've ever felt. The way he was so happy at my one year anniversary of ending the self harm. The way he talks to me in depth about it and holds my face in the dark to make sure I'm not crying when I remember the way my parents reacted. How, when I get upset because I'm convinced I am a bad girlfriend, he laughs at the idea like its the most ridiculous thing in the world and proceeds to assure me.

I love that even if he has just picked me up for the night and he is perfectly awake, when he sees that I am exhausted, urges me to sleep and rest, and just holds me as I sleep, for hours. I love that he thinks I am beautiful, with clothes on, and how whenever I get shy or awkward he just laughs and tells me he loves me without any frustration.

I love that he wants to spend as much time with me as he can and that he trusts me, I love his strong stance against cheating and the way he talks about me to randoms when he's not with me. I love the way he calls me when he's drunk, and the way he makes me do my homework.

I love how even when he is in excruciating pain due to an unknown problem with his heart, he is most concerned about accidentally hurting me, and the way that I actually make it stop sooner and usually hurt less, just by being around.

I love that last time I saw him, he talked to me while he was sleeping, and in pain in his sleep, I could make him stop hurting just by whispering soothing words. I love the way he tries to make light of how serious the pain is, but told me in his sleep. And the way that even in his sleep, he kept whispering "I love you so much".

Through all my terrible mood swings of late when I grow incredibly self destructive and almost break up with him for the sake of causing myself pain, when I yell at him and cry and am cranky and upset and terrible to be around, he stays to talk me through it, and will come get me if he can. I love how he makes me feel better and how he's just as happy to spend hours talking as making out.

There are a million and one things he does that continually raise my ability to value myself, not too much, but closer to enough; and reassure me that somehow, I am worthy of being loved. To have someone put up so well with all the crap I put them through, and still love me as much; and for all the important matters on which we think the same, I wonder, can I find something this amazing with someone else that will last the years?

I hope so.

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