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And I Love Him 2004-02-12, 1:38 p.m. Recently, I got the very exciting news that one of my dearest friends got engaged over the weekend, and she asked me to be her maid of honor. When she called me, I was navigating traffic on a busy highway covered with patches of black ice, so it took a while for what she was saying to actually sink in. The shrieking and crying that commenced after I finally Got It was ridiculous and silly, but I was so happy for her that I thought I was going to burst. The fact that she asked me to be her maid of honor is really overwhelming, and I am very honored to be a part of their special day.
When I got home that night, I marked all of my calendars with the Wedding Weekend (and also with J-Con dates!) and started thinking about stuff like showers and rehearsal dinners and registries and how to avoid being jealous of my friend and When Is It Going To Be My Turn and Oh My God What If She Makes Me Wear An Awful Dress? I got weepy and sad over the news that one of my best friends was planning to marry her true love, and started feeling all kinds of sorry for myself. And then, I gave myself a lecture. Listen up, y'all. A Redheaded Angel and I have been e-mailing back and forth about Lush and boys and questionable hair products, and in one boy-related e-mail, she told me that I got big bonus points for being able to sit back and say "I'm happy right now, and that's the important thing." And I thought about what she said, and she’s right. I have to give myself a little credit for finally starting to realize what’s important to me and what I’m ready for at this point in my life. It’s called Growing Up. Do I really want a wedding right now? No! I’m not ready to begin planning a wedding, and I certainly have no sense of preparation for the emotional, financial, and legal aspects of a marriage. Why does my satisfaction with this phase in my life hinge on someone else? It shouldn’t, and it doesn’t. What I want is to be happy, and while that sounds terribly cliché, I want that, and I deserve that. So, I’m done being weepy about the lack of engagement ring on my left hand, and I’m done envying my friend for her happiness and her upcoming wedding. Instead, I’m filled with joy for her and her fiancé, and I’m focusing on helping them plan their dream wedding and not being so damn full of myself and hung up on my own relationship issues. Because Everything is Not About Me. But am I really happy with T right now? I don’t know. Sometimes, I feel like he’s The One For Me, and at other times, I get angry with myself for being involved with him. He’s fantastic and I wish that all of my friends could get to know him – to know us - and see what I see. He also makes me crazy sometimes – I don’t always feel like a priority in his life, I don’t know if he’ll ever let down his guard and stop being afraid of commitment, and I don’t know how his very traditional family will react to me being a part of his life. I hate that I’ve cried over him more than I have any other guy I’ve ever dated. I hate that he's out of town until Monday. I hate that it’s difficult to be in an interracial relationship in the year 2004. Sometimes I try to hate him so that I can run away from our relationship – it’s hard, it’s far from perfect, it’s requiring a hell of a lot of effort, and if I could just hate him, I could walk away and wash my hands of the whole thing. However, I love that when I’ve had a crappy day at work, he wraps me up in a blanket and lets me nap while he gets take-out for us to share. I love that he secretly likes trashy reality shows, just like I do. I love that he loves football and basketball (almost) as much as I do, and we get into heated, yet friendly, debates about the weekly rankings, who’s got the toughest schedules, and who should be the 1 seeds in the tournament this year. I love that we’re both not morning people and that he always offers to get up and shower first so that I can have a few more minutes of sleep. I love that he thinks I’m a good cook, and I love cooking for him and sharing quiet evenings in front of the TV or playing board games. I love that his apartment is so obviously a single guy’s place. I love that he thinks I’m the smartest girl he’s ever met. I love how he makes me laugh, and how he thinks he can beat me at Trivial Pursuit, but never does. I love that he’s responsible and driven. I love the way he kisses me. I love the stories he tells me about his college friends and his fraternity brothers and the crazy things they did together. I love that he knows exactly when I need a hug. I love learning about his native country and what it was like to move to the U.S. and start a new life here with his family. I love our inside jokes. I love introducing him to new things. I love that he’s my best friend. And I love him. Happy Valentine’s Day, T.
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