Well it’s a late night, folks. It’s about 2:00, and I just can’t sleep. All my life, I’ve never been a very sound sleeper, but I have particular difficulties (like most people, I’d imagine) after frustrating events or during especially stressful situations.
I’m getting married in 101 days. I’ve been struggling to find permanent full-time work to support my future wife (not to mention pay bills and buy food in the meantime). I just recently got let go from a temp-to-hire position on account of getting all my work done a little more efficiently than was expected. I haven’t had a steady place to call home in over 6 months.
None of those things are what keep my mind from slipping into the peaceful black bliss of sleep tonight. Yes, my stomach’s in knots, like when I got let go. Yes, my head is spinning, like when I walked across the marble stage, diploma in hand, without a great job lined up.
And yet… It’s not jobs or work that keeps pinching my subconscious awake. Instead, I’m thinking of something much longer-lasting, a reality much scarier yet much happier.
In 101 days, I’ll be verbally affirming promises my heart has made for a long time. I’ll become one with the best, dearest friend who until now I’ve had to live separate from in so many of the minutia of life. I’ll be able to come home at the end of the day to my constant comrade, my amazing adventurer, my sarcastic sweetheart, my first and forever love.
And that’s about the scariest thing I’ve ever realized. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be happier – if I could skip ahead to that moment right now, I would. I wouldn’t bother with tuxes and boutonnières, ribbons and receptions. I can’t wait for falling asleep on the couch to the movie we’d waited weeks to see; to silent glances across the room, signaling that we’re ready to leave the party for some quiet time peacefully reading at home or catching up on our favorite silly show.
You see, the truth is, Andrea is so much more than a fiancé, just like a wedding is far more than just some tulle and satin, with fancy words and parchment. Andrea is the other half I’ve been incomplete without, the decoder ring that makes the childhood scribbles of my life suddenly make sense.
And there’s nothing scarier than that. It’s easy to put on a face, to hide from those who could see into your life, know the real you. Over the years, I’ve become very good at putting my thoughts and feelings into deep down folders, beneath piles of ” ______ would like me better if I was more/less ______.” As a wise man once said, “We long to be loved, but fear being known.” Yet there’s no way to be truly loved without being truly known. And it’s so very easy to get used to being only partially loved. We compromise with ourselves, convincing ourselves that it’s good enough to only show our most favorite, sanitized parts of us, to only be partially loved. Because clearly, no one would love the complete, deep down me.
Passenger tells us that you don’t know love til you’ve lost it. But to be honest, most are just too afraid to really try – too afraid to face the unknown and give it their all. Afraid to know and be known – Of what they may find, but more afraid of what may be found in them.
But let me tell you – it’s worth it. It’s worth the discomfort of really letting someone in, to stand in someone’s life, bare of all facades and masks, and still be loved. To know that someone sees all that you are, and still chooses to love and cherish you. That is what’s keeping me up tonight. In a mere 101 days, I’ll be breaking past the last seperating barriers, seeing and being seen for who I am. I’ll be able to spend each and every day in the confidence that no matter what the day may hold, I have the other half of my heart waiting for me. That I’ll start and end the day in the arms of my best friend.
And there’s nothing scarier – or exciting and happy – than that.
3 months, 10 days, 10 hours, and 46 minutes to go.
P.S. Sorry for The Office stuff, but I’ve always looked up so much to Jim, which is weird for a fictional character, but he’s the kind of guy any decent guy should aspire to be.
That and I love my dear, best-friend-first, through thick and thin, first love Pam, also known as Andrea Marie Corwin.