Wednesday, September 2, 2015

When Scars Don't Matter

One of the hardest things about graduating college is that you and your friends inevitably end up spread all around the country.

Clayton's in Atlanta. Austin's in Florida. Summer's still at Campbell.

Being that far apart and having crazy busy "adult" lives, it takes a lot more effort to keep in contact, to sort out time when you can actually reconnect with each other and talk, instead of just relying on text messages and Twitter (which is, unfortunately, what a lot of my life has come to nowadays).

So at the end of last week, I texted Austin to see if he had time for us to talk soon. He told me to ask him after Monday, so I texted him again last night when I was pretty sure he'd be off work. He told me he was too exhausted to talk and probably wouldn't be available tonight, either. I said okay and went on with my night and didn't think anything of it. I knew from previous conversations that his job really was tiring.

Well, he called me tonight while I was on the phone with Mom. (I got off the call with Mom really quickly, ha!) I told him this was a surprise and asked him what was up. This is where it gets good.

He told me he wanted to make sure that him not being able to talk over the past week and saying that he was too tired to talk to me hadn't made me worry or triggered any insecurities about our friendship. He said he knows that I struggle with fear of upsetting my friends or, worse, losing my friends, especially after what happened with Ryann, so he wanted to make sure that I knew he wasn't avoiding talking to me or anything like that. He said he thought the least he could do was call me on the way home from his youth group and check on me.

I couldn't help but laugh a little that the one time a friend has proactively checked on me and my feelings and fears was one of the times I actually wasn't concerned at all.

So I reassured him that I hadn't thought anything of it but that I sincerely appreciated that he cared enough to call me and check. Then we got to talk for about 15 minutes before I told him to go to bed because I could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

This probably seems like an insignificant topic for a blog post, but seriously y'all, it means the world. To have friends who know my insecurities and see my scars and baggage and love me through them and despite them, even when they make being my friend hard (trust me, they can and they have), means the world. This whole thing tonight made me realize all over again just how lucky I am to have real, authentic friends who know me in my bones and don't let my past affect their views of me now. One of the recurring themes in my therapy sessions has been that I still struggle with feeling so unworthy of love, but the way people like Austin love me helps me understand and believe that I really am worthy of this. That I am better and bigger than my scars and insecurities. That they don't define who I am.

And for that, I am very, very thankful.

post signature

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

It's Ryann's birthday today.

Truth be told, I had forgotten about it, until I clicked on Facebook right at midnight and saw the birthday notification in the corner. My stomach immediately dropped. Damn you, Facebook.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love birthdays. I LOVE celebrating the people that I love. If I know you and I know your birthday, I will wish you a happy birthday. If we're even somewhat close, chances are high that I will sing for you. It makes me happy to celebrate people.

So when I saw it was her birthday, I immediately began grappling with whether or not I should wish her a happy birthday.

Some of my friends thought I was insane, that the answer was obvious, that no way should I reach out to someone who cut me out with no explanation and hasn't responded or spoken to me in more than four months. But it was a real question for me, mostly because I felt like I couldn't win no matter what I did or no matter what the outcome was.

I haven't stopped hurting about how things ended with her in the months since it happened. So I knew that if I said nothing to her, I'd still be hurting.

If I reached out and she said nothing, I'd hurt from the confirmation that she really is done with me, that I really was that disposable to her after everything.

If I reached out and she responded to give me whatever messed up reasons she had for disappearing, I'd hurt for having the girl who was my absolute best friend, my sister, for four years basically stab me straight in the heart.

So no matter what, I hurt.

Thankfully, I had an appointment with my therapist today. We discussed many things, but a good part was devoted to this. God bless that woman, because she helped me understand that the reasons why I wanted to text Ryann were the exact reasons why I shouldn't.

Part of me wanted to text her in the hopes that she would respond and we could reconcile things, that I could get my best friend back. But someone who did what she has done is not a healthy friendship to have. It's just my people-pleasing tendencies that want everyone to be happy and for everyone to like me that are bringing that desire for reconciliation. Setting aside the fact that she was my best friend, it really, really hurts that someone I thought loved me and considered me a friend suddenly did a 180 and decided they didn't like me anymore. I've always wanted to do whatever I could to be liked. I just didn't see that it was playing out like this.

The other part of me wanted to text her because I wanted answers. I wanted to know how she could totally disregard the friendship we had and all the times she called me her best friend, her sister, the person she trusted most. I wanted to know how she could do exactly what she knew I'm so terrified of and exactly what she always promised she never would without a second thought. I wanted to know how she could go from never being afraid to talk to me about her feelings, or any frustrations she had regarding me, to straight up lying to me and saying everything is fine only to completely ghosting me.  I just wanted to know what the hell happened, because I realized months ago that this wasn't my fault.

But sometimes life isn't fair. Sometimes we don't get the answers we want, or maybe even deserve. Sometimes people do hurtful things that have nothing to do with something wrong in us and everything to do with something wrong in them. And though we're not at fault, we have to learn how to pick up the pieces and move forward, instead of letting the sadness and frustration rule our lives. Because when someone suddenly and unexpectedly cuts you out and goes four months of not showing any sign of reopening that door, chances are good that they're never going to. I've never been good at letting people go without closure. That's pretty much why it took me six years to quit Landon.  My therapist helped me understand, though, that closure isn't so much about the situation with the other person as it is about recognizing that I've done everything I could. And I have done everything I could. I was a good friend to her for four solid years, as good of a friend as I possibly know how to be and a friend that she seemed to appreciate. I asked her if anything was wrong - she said no. And when she disappeared, I tried multiple times to reach out, in many different ways. I can't do anything else. I can't force back open a door she shut.

So I didn't text her. It wouldn't do any good. I need to learn how to make myself feel better, instead of expecting a response from her that may never come to do it. This wasn't my doing, so fighting to fix something I'm not responsible for will do nothing but exhaust me and drag out the pain I was already dealing with.

We all give pieces of our heart away when we form deep relationships. Sometimes you give a piece to the wrong person. Now, I'm going to take this one back.

post signature

Monday, August 31, 2015

It's Not What You Think {A Review}

For the record, getting an advanced PDF copy of the book for being on the launch team has absolutely no bearing on anything I'm about to write. I'd love this book just as much and probably still write this post if it were October. All of this is 100% genuine.


It's Not What You Think: Why Christianity is About So Much More than Going to Heaven When You Die

It's Not What You Think is the upcoming second book from Jeff Bethke. After being a part of the launch teams for his first book and his wife Alyssa's book, I knew I wanted to be a part of this one and continue to help spread the message Jeff has to share. His first book, Jesus > Religion, is one of my favorite books of all-time and helped heal so many wounds from my past, so I feel this sense of utter gratitude for Jeff, his words, and his passion for helping others. As it turns out, though, I'm the lucky one because it feels like such a honor to be able to read this book.

While Jesus > Religion, I thought, seemed mostly geared toward non-believers, this book's message focuses on taking different concepts and ideas and showing believers what they really mean, what God intends them to be. Jeff shows such wisdom in his words, but never once does he sound like a professor lecturing you or take a holier-than-thou attitude pointing out everything you have gotten wrong. His tone is that of a friend, someone who understands where you are but doesn't want to leave you there; he shows love and grace through every word and clearly wants to help his readers understand God's heart more clearly. I would guess that this gentleness in his writing stems from the fact that he didn't go through school to study and teach this; Jeff understands the "normal, average person" because he is just a normal, average guy...who just so happens to have gotten famous from a YouTube video.

In Chapter 6, titled "Worship's Not What You Think: You Become What You Behold," Jeff details the story of breaking his collarbone during a baseball game, and how having his playing career ripped away from him rocked his world. How not being able to play helped him to realize how baseball had become his god, because he saw how his identity was wrapped up in that game and his performance. As soon as he began telling this story, I knew exactly where he was going, and I immediately thought of the fall of 2009, when having those six brain surgeries ripped away my chance to start college. Looking back, I can tell that that hurt so badly wasn't just because of the medical stress, or how desperate I was to start the next chapter of my life; it was because my education was my god. Because of my physical disabilities and health issues, school had always been the one thing I was really good at. I didn't just take pride in my grades; I beat myself up if I didn't do as well as I thought I should have. I would get serious anxiety while waiting on grades over major assignments, papers, or projects. One of my constant goals was to make my mom proud by how well I did in school. So when I didn't get to go to college that August, and when so many near-death experiences made it questionable whether I would ever get to go to college, my identity was torn to shreds. The thing I had spent my whole life worshiping was on the verge of being totally taken away from me. It's only been recently that I recognized this, but now, I can see that God used that time to lead me to the point when I would learn where my identity truly belongs.

Identity is a lesson permeating all the chapters of this book. In Chapter 4, Jeff uses the analogy of a king's guards and his children to help the reader examine who they truly see themselves as. Which picture more describes your relationship with God? Are you terrified you are going to mess up all the time, or are you playfully running around God's throne knowing your dad is the King of the universe? I'm definitely the first one. I've always been the first one, long before I gave myself and my life to God. And I'm still trying to figure out how to change that. But this chapter, and this analogy in particular, really helped me examine my heart in detail and think about why it is I see myself this way, even when I know how God sees me. Jeff references Abraham Heschel on a later page, who said, "The greatest sin of man is to forget that he is a prince." Boom. I've been dishonoring God by treating myself as a broken failure constantly trying to be good enough instead of the creation He made, His image-bearer, a child of the King. I am a princess. There's no arguing with that.

On one page, Jeff explicitly says, "Saying yes to Jesus is just the beginning." I remember the night I became a Christian and got baptized; I'd heard for so long of all the great things that would come once I "got saved" that I thought suddenly everything would get easier and better afterwards...Then I ended up in the hospital two days later. So much for that idea, right? Almost immediately into my life as a Christian, I had to realize that life was still going to be just as hard as before, if not harder; the only difference was that now, I had a new perspective on everything and a new hope to get through it. Three and a half years later, and I still have to remind myself of that lesson and the hope that comes in Jesus in the middle of the darkness.

That brings me to another point that really jumped out at me. In Chapter 4, "You're Not Who You Think," Jeff dives into the meaning of "the wilderness," and the good that can come from that which we see as simply ugly, painful, and broken. (emphasis mine) "The wilderness represented death, ache, pain, no food, and thirst. Yet God said He was going to lure them into the wilderness. There's this romance in that word lure; it's as if God is wooing them into the wilderness. He wanted to speak tenderly to them. God sees the wilderness as a special place between us and him. What if we stopped rejecting it?" That passage right there, that takes every time I've ever pleaded with God to give me a break and make the pain and sickness go away, and makes it seem silly. My friend Taylor once told me that people like him who have lived virtually pain-free lives will be envious of the intimacy with Jesus that I have experienced through hurting. Yet I have spent so much time begging for a way out. Thank you, Jeff, for helping me see that the wilderness can help me see God clearer than ever before.

Then there is Chapter 8: "Brokenness Is Not What You Think: You Must Embrace Your Scars." Oh man. I think I was about three pages into this chapter when I started crying. Scars from my past have always been something I've struggled greatly with. And I'm not talking about my many surgical scars; those have been easy to come to terms with compared to the emotional scars that still sometimes feel so raw and fresh years after the fact. Most of the time, they're healed, they're just scars. You can ask me about them and my past, and I will find great joy in telling you my story because it means I get to tell you about the God who saved me time and time again, how God brought beauty from the ashes of a very broken little girl who thought she had nothing else. But sometimes, talk of the scars seems to rip them fresh open, and guilt, regret, and pain hit me like a tidal wave all over again. Like Jeff, I begin to question why I feel that way when I thought I was healed. There's a delicate balance, because I can't always tell in advance how I will feel if someone asks me a question.

But then I remember the day I met The Vespers, and how it felt to tell my story for the first time. I laid out every detail of my past to a stranger in the middle of the dining hall. How it felt to be wrecked by fear that Bruno would think I was a freak and recoil in horror, but instead to have him look at me with grace in his eyes and empathy and encouragement in his words. That day was when I began to understand that my story wasn't as dark and ugly as I thought it was; from the outside, people could see redemption and strength and miracles. Slowly, I began to understand that, and after I became a Christian, it became even more clear to me. That's why I tell people now that sharing my story is actually really fun for me, not because it gives me an excuse to talk to people, but because I get to tell people about all the amazing things God has done. I get to show people the kind of miracles God can pull off when the world says there's no hope. I get to show people my scars and say, "Look how far God has brought me."

I think the difference between me before talking to Bruno and me after is that I understand now that scars aren't something to hide away. I don't have to pretend they don't exist. Jeff says it so beautifully (emphasis mine). "They tell a story. What's more, after the resurrection Jesus is in a perfect glorified body. (His body is what ours will look like at the end of time when everything is fully restored.) Yet he still has scars. While many of us see scars as a weakness, if Jesus has scars after the resurrection, then maybe they're not. Maybe scars make us truly human. They show we've lived." Thank you, Jeff, for the reminder that the scars of life are a chance to boast in our weakness so that we can also boast of God's power. 

Christians, let me say this very simply: You NEED to read this book. It's not that I'm telling you that you should because I like Jeff and I like supporting him. I'm telling you that you need to read this book because there is healing to be found in these pages. We all have scars. We all have identity crises. (At least, anyone I've ever met does.) Jeff's words will help you move past those and dance freely in the person you were created to be: clean, righteous, enough. For me, with this book, Jeff has brought me and my soul back to the heart of who God sees me as and the potential I have as an image-bearer and child of the King of the universe. This book will remind you to slow down in the busyness of life, reconnect with the people you love, and go back and sit at the feet of the One who loves you more than you could ever imagine. It is filled with lessons and a new perspective on what it means to be Christians and Jesus-followers in this world, and how maybe we should be helping bring God here now instead of running from it. I can almost guarantee you that there you have a perspective on and understand of something in this book that will be flipped on its head and be made bright and clear. Things that you may have become complacent in your understanding of, Jeff helps make it clear that It's Not What You Think. It's so much better. 

It's Not What You Think: Why Christianity is About So Much More than Going to Heaven When You Die by Jefferson "Jeff" Bethke releases on October 13, 2015. You can pre-order it on Amazon here or at Barnes & Noble here.

post signature

Thursday, August 27, 2015

When Prayer Feels Inadequate

I'm guessing I don't need to tell you what has happened in Virginia.

My heart is broken for Alison Ward and Adam Parker's family, friends, boyfriend and fiancée, colleagues, and all the people in the Roanoke, VA, area who grew used to watching them on TV.

I remember how my community reacted when a popular weatherman died. There was great mourning for everyone, and that wasn't from murder. I can't even imagine what that community of people is feeling, not only to have this happen, but to have it happen live on air. So many people say that reporters become like part of the family because they're in your home every single day, and I finally kind of get that now. Alison was actually a reporter for one of my hometown's local news stations before she moved to Virginia, so the connection hits closer to home than I thought it would.

There have been a lot of questions in my head today.
Why is it always "disgruntled former employees" who do this?
Why are they so often such cowards that they'll kill themselves before they have to face what they've done?
How sick do you have to be to not just record yourself committing murder, but to do it live on-air to terrify who knows how many people?
Have we really entered a stage of social media where people can and will actually post murders on the internet and have others re-upload it and post it everywhere like it's some sick kind of entertainment?
Did anyone have a clue this guy was the kind of person who would boast of admiration for the VA Tech killer (because he got nearly twice the "body count" of the Columbine shooters)?
How did this guy go unnoticed when he called himself "a human powder keg waiting to go boom"?
How many times does this have to happen (there have already been more than 850 mass shootings since Sandy Hook in December 2012) before we wise up and get better gun laws?

Those are just some of them...but with a whole lot of expletives added in.

I'm angry and hurt and sad and in shock, and I don't even know anyone involved.

I know this is the time when I need to be in serious prayer. For Alison's boyfriend, Adam's fiancée (who also watched it happen live, because she is a producer at the station and was in the control room), their families, friends, everyone at their station, the community who watched it and knew them. And I know I need to pray for the shooter's family and friends, as they try to wrap their minds around what he's done, because chances are they're just as in shock as everyone else.

I know that prayer is the only thing I can give right now, and that it's the best thing I can give, but right now, it just feels so...inadequate.

It feels like I should be doing more, even though I know that's impossible. Even though I know that God is near to the brokenhearted. Even though I know that their loved ones have a community around them to support them, and I didn't even know them, sitting here, I feel so helpless knowing that something like this has happened and there's nothing that can be done to change it or make it better. I wish I could actively be doing something, anything, to help those thrown into the depths of grief. We can probably chalk this up to my innate need to "fix" things.

But I can't fix this and I can't make it better. I know that prayer is all I have to give, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. So I'll send it up to God, knowing that God has been with those grieving long before the murders even happened, and that they won't be alone as they walk this aftermath.

post signature

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

It's been a rough few days.

Saturday night, a bunch of symptoms set in that, long story short, made me seriously question if something was wrong with my shunt because of the speed at which they grew and how intense they got.

Twelve hours in an ER, scans, examinations, meds, and lots of miscommunications later, and apparently, my migraines, which haven't really plagued me in months and never with the set of symptoms I got Saturday night, are back and worse than ever.

Which is just, you know, super timing.

So I really haven't done much of anything but sleep since then.

The good news is I'm still seizure free, which is huge progress. The ER told me to follow up with my neurologist, and I already have an appointment set up with him for next week anyway.

I just need the pain to go back down, because classes start in a week and I will be hearing back about the internship any day now which means I could start any day.

For now, though, I'm going to go take a hot shower because I had to go with Holly to do my build up of almost three weeks worth of laundry (not my fault, Holly was on vacation and then worked doubles all of last week) so now I am super sweaty and gross.

Tomorrow, I've got a psychiatry med appointment, and then I plan on doing nothing but read this book for the launch team I'm on. (Jeff Bethke's new book, stay tuned!)

post signature

Friday, August 21, 2015

It's you they add up to.

Truth time: I've been on a bit of a One Direction kick lately. Yeah, I know. They're a lot more talented than I ever gave them credit for.

One of the first songs I listened to from them on YouTube a couple weeks ago was "Little Things." It's all about how the little things a girl doesn't like about herself are all the things that her boyfriend loves, that he loves every part of her and she's perfect to him.

Most teenage girls probably like to dream that one of the boys is singing the song directly to her, but for me, it's been a huge reminder to love myself, every part of myself, even the things that my first instinct is to cringe at and put down. To stop demeaning my beauty. To stop playing the comparison game and thinking about how other girls are prettier/better/more attractive than me.

A big part of me is still absolutely terrified that I'll never get married and have kids, that as Landon once said, he is "all I'm ever going to get." (Yeah. He did.) I still have many days where I believe that I'm never going to have that powerful, beautiful romantic love and find someone to, as cliche as it sounds, share my life with for the rest of my life. And I tell myself that if I really am alone forever, that it'll be because of all these little things that I don't like about myself.

But then I remember something Clayton once told me after the conversation with Landon back in April, when I asked him to tell me that I was going to find someone one day that didn't treat me like Landon did. This is what he said.

"I believe that as amazing of a person as you are, there's no way that you won't find a man who loves you completely and cares about you more than himself."

Friends are there to believe when you can't. To see the beauty in you when you're your own worst enemy. And remembering this response from Clayton and the message behind this song (as silly as it may be to think so hard about a One Direction song) helps me remember that there is so much more to me than the negative things I often see first. So who cares where it comes from? We all need help sometimes remembering that we are beautiful and loved just as we are. Because every little thing about us, even the things we wish we could change, add up to the beautiful, amazing creatures that we are. We're lovely just like this.

Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me,
but bear this in mind, it was meant to be,
and I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks,
and it all makes sense to me.

I know you've never loved the crinkles by your eyes when you smile.
You've never loved your stomach or your thighs,
the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine,
but I'll love them endlessly.

I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth,
but if I do, it's you, oh, it's you they add up to.
I'm in love with you
and all these little things.

You can't go to bed without a cup of tea,
and maybe that's the reason that you talk in your sleep,
and all those conversations are the secrets that I keep,
though it makes no sense to me.

I know you've never loved the sound of your voice on tape.
You never want to know how much you weigh.
You still have to squeeze into your jeans,
but you're perfect to me.

I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth,
but if it's true, it's you, it's you they add up to.
I'm in love with you
and all these little things.

You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you,
and you'll never treat yourself right, darlin', but I want you to.
If I let you know I'm here for you,
maybe you'll love yourself like I love you, oh.

I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth,
'cause it's you, oh, it's you, it's you they add up to,
and I'm in love with you
and all these little things.

I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth,
but if it's true, it's you, it's you they add up to.
I'm in love with you
and all your little things.

post signature

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

God is good.

I'm tired, so this is short.

My tuition will be paid.

The loan went through.

The check will be in the mail tomorrow.

Praise the Lord.

The interview was fine. Crossing my fingers that I get it. They need a lot of help with transcription, so I know I would rock at it. (Thank you, Dr. Steegar and Anima.)

I've got a "homework assignment" that I need to send in. I plan on doing that tomorrow.

I should hear back within a week, provided I get that done tomorrow.

I hate waiting, but that's life.

I'm thankful to have had so many people praying for both of these things for me.

post signature

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Night-Before Jitters

I have an interview tomorrow.

My first ever professional interview.

It's for this place called The Cordoba Initiative up in Harlem. It's a multi-national organization that works with the Muslim community and works to build trust, cooperation, and peace among different cultures and religions.

I love what they stand for, so I hope I get it.

But let's be real: I also hope I get it because this is the only place that invited me for an interview out of a dozen applications, I couldn't really find anything else to apply for that I had a shot at being qualified for, and I'm running out of time.

I'm nervous. I was stuttering so bad just on the phone with the internship coordinator, and I'll be in person with the executive director tomorrow.

Gotta grow up and do stuff like this eventually, though, I guess.

Sigh. Here we go.

post signature

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Life-Giving

Today was one of those days where I was reminded just how thankful I am for the community I have.

Nothing super significant happened. I'm just really happy and feeling very loved.

My church family, y'all. I smile just from being around them. This is the first church I've ever been in where I feel completely safe and free to be honest. The first church community that when they say they are praying and will pray for me, I have no doubt that they're telling the truth. I have made some dear friends. I can't wait to go back every single Sunday because when things are great, my joy only multiplies being in worship with my dear community, and when things are hard, they surround me with love, will pray for me on the spot, and show their investment in my life just by the way they hug me and look at me when I'm talking to them. They are a gift.

That would have been enough good for me today, but then tonight, I was just sitting here listening to music, and suddenly Austin surprise FaceTimed me. We got to talk for about 40 minutes, and our conversation reminded me that I don't have to worry about him. This friendship is totally symbiotic, and both of us are giving of ourselves. For a change, I actually got to listen to him and give him advice and reassurance, because let's be real, it's usually the other way around. Big life transitions are hard (yay growing up) and I'm a step ahead of him on this, so I'm thankful that I was able to help him for a bit tonight.

Community is so, so crucial, y'all. I can't say that enough. I spent so long doing things pretty much entirely on my own, thinking I had to take care of everything on my own, that as much as I wanted friends, I never thought they'd come and never realized what a drastic difference they would make in my life. Friendships can be so life-giving, especially at times when your soul feels empty and your bones feel dry and weak. And the fact that I have a friend who is over a thousand miles away from me now who still plays a vital role in my life, and whose life I play a big role in, as well, I think speaks volumes to what can happen when you find those quality friendships that are built to last. It's funny what happens when relationships are focused on Jesus. ;)

God bless whatever folks at Apple created FaceTime, that's all I can say. The distance feels a little less painful when you can actually see each other's faces.

In conclusion, I am a very, very lucky girl.

post signature

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Not Alone

I've been alone in the apartment all week. Holly went to NC on Saturday, and the roommate left to go home to her family on Sunday until the semester starts.

Too much silence...it starts to get to me. I don't do well with too much time by myself. Chalk it up to my 100% extrovert personality, or the fact that I have several things in my life right now that I'm trying not to stress about, but when I spend too much time alone, I get way too caught up in my head and either my depression kicks in or I send myself into a panic attack. Neither are very good options.

So by last night, I was more than needy to have someone to talk to (at least, about something other than Landon). So I looked through my phone thinking about who I could call up, and I settled on Christian. I haven't talked to him much because he quit working at Spiegel around my birthday, so we sort of drifted, which is easy to do when you don't have a set, given way to see each other.

It turned out to be something that I think we both really needed. It's always good to catch up with a friend, but especially so when you realize that you're struggling with the same feelings. Turns out, despite going through very different situations, we've both been battling similar issues within ourselves. It felt so good to talk it out, but also to have a distraction from it and laugh and be our usual silly selves.

And knowing Christian, I'm pretty sure he would say the same for him. He sure sounded a lot happier by the time we hung up than he did when we started.

But my favorite part of the conversation was when we decided we needed a good hangout. So we're going to get together tomorrow night and go to the movies. We're going to see some superhero movie that he really wants to see. I know nothing about it, but if it makes him happy, I'll gladly sit through it, since it means I get to spend time with him.

The goober better not cancel on me. ;)

post signature