My Heart has a Rip

I am struggling. This is difficult for me to admit, but I know that if I don't deal with these feelings, I'm going to ruin a relationship that makes me very happy.

My heart has a rip. Each time I think I have sewn the tear up on one side, the seam comes undone on the other end. I am angry at the one who put the rip there to begin with. It's like that T. Swift song "A Perfectly Good Heart. The lyrics go something like this:

"Why would you wanna make the very first scar? Why would you wanna break a perfectly good heart?"

Specifically, I am having issues with trust, and I am feeling insecure. I have been praying about these things, and I'm trying to remember that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. My worth has to come from a higher place and not from any one person here on Earth. This is difficult to do when all around me there are airbrushed and photoshopped images. I can't walk around with a professional hair stylist (it simply doesn't fit into the budget), and I am getting the angry teacher wrinkle at 25 (time is quickly marching down my face).

When it comes down to it though, I've got to give up these feelings. I am living in fear that my current relationship will end the way my last relationship ended, and it's not fair to my beau to put this baggage on his back. He has done nothing to make me suspicious. I'm at the point where I have to ask myself: so what if he cheats? While I would be heartbroken, his actions are out of my hands. I have to take a chance and choose to trust him for what he says, and I have to focus on me. I have to continue to do the things that make me happy and let my worth come from within and from above.

"Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." Luke 12:7

Twitterpated

(I'm goin to geek out just a little, so please forgive me.)
Do you remember this term from the Disney classic Bambi? If we were to look it up in the Disney Glossary of Made Up Words, we might find this definition:
Twitterpated (adj) totally and completely smitten (as in "I am twitterpated over my new beau.")

and girls and boys, am I ever!

Montana came to Virginia and spent a fantastic five days at my house. We acted like kids and did everything from riding the ferris wheel to zipping down waterslides. I made him dinner, he fixed my dryer, we walked the dog, and in general did life together.

Most everyone in my immediate circle of family and friends knows about Mr. Brawny Man Fantastic Pants, but I was hesitant to post him as my fo' realsies boyfriend on FB because I was nervous people would think it was too soon for me to be in a serious relationship. Then I decided to say the hell with what other people think! I am following my bliss, and this guy adds so much dimension and vibrancy to my life. Sometimes he will say things, and I'll think "my goodness...that's exactly what was going through my head." He always gets my jokes, is a wonderful kisser, and he makes me smile like none other.

In the past, I've dated guys based on physical attraction. I even married the ex with physical attraction being 90% of the deal. With Montana it is different. Don't get me wrong, I think he is ridiculously handsome, and don't even get me started on those shoulders. . . but my attraction to Montana comes from our personalities being 100% compatible. He is active, likes to talk, and loves life. No surprise, but so do I!

I can't wait until he comes to stay again. Call me crazy (and if I'm wrong, oh well), but he might just be it.

Life Happens

I had spent the day of the trip like any other. I woke at eight, took a shower and dressed, then had barbecue with the Snowmonster in town. Unlike other days, I spent the evening on a plane to see my best friend and college roommate in Maine.
Being only my second flight ever, I was quite nervous. I boarded the plane and took my seat next to an older gentleman. Unfortunately for him, I had the aisle seat and separated him from his wife and kids. I offered to switch him seats, and found myself wedged between this older man and a fellow roughly my age.

Can you guess where this is going?

Yup. I met a fellow on a plane. A legit fellow that I am willing to go on the record with. How did this happen? Let me back up and take you from where I was to where I am.

The week prior to this trip, I was sitting with Johanna having a drink and dinner. We were both depressed and singing "mirror in the sky, what is love?!" Between our lyrical shenanigans, we discussed how exhausted we were from dating a bunch of no potential suitors. Worse than disappointing dates, we were both dreading the work that comes with building a relationship. You have to bare your soul, listen as someone else bare theirs, pick up their baggage... I mean, like I said: EXHAUSTING.

Not only is dating exhausting and disappointing, it's confusing. There are so many rules! Having read "He's Just Not That Into You", Johanna and I try to follow the "don't call him/let him call you" rule, but the crappy part is when you have a decent time with someone and then they follow the "Bro Code" which was explained to me by a male friend as "the 72 hours after a date where you are not to call the lady because you don't want to appear desperate." Like I said, confusing. So young ladies like myself sit at home waiting by the telephone wondering if a suitor will call, or not call. That night, Johanna and I had decided we were not waiting by the phone anymore. We were swearing off serious love because clearly it didn't exist in our world.

Fast forward to me on this plane with a guy from Montana (who shall be referred to as Montana from here on out). We spent the two hours of the flight wrapped up in easy conversation. One thing led to another, and we spent twelve hours traipsing through shore and forest, eating ice cream, watching a film, and discussing particulars in a Portland park. With him, it is so easy. There is no exhaustion whatsoever, and it feels natural and right.

I am scared because it hasn't been that long since my marriage dissolved, but I sense that passing this up would be a terrible mistake. So here I go again, believing in Beauty, Truth, and Love as the Bohemians do in Moulin Rouge. I may get hurt, and my heart may end up even more tattered and bruised, but for him, it's a risk I'm willing to take. :)