The Thing With Love

When I use to be single, in and out of the dating scene but never really committing, I use to think it was better to go alone. Late in high school I made a plan sprung from passion and naivety that nothing, especially a boy, would prevent me from traveling after college to pursue some type of service work or explore. This plan allowed me to believe that I needed to emotionally detach myself from anyone that might have an inkling to pursue me. Obviously you can imagine I became sick of that every now and again. Looking back on each guy I have had some sort of connection with I see a different person in myself. I never allowed myself to be who I was, afraid of attachment and ultimately I feared that regret of leaving someone to travel would prevent me from living what I felt was meant for me.

So I went. Quite a few years. Camp introduced me to others who love to pack a bag and take off into the world for just a few days or several years. Slowly the possibility of someone out there that loved picking up and leaving as much as I did was out there. But I remained skeptical, and envied those who were updating with pictures of exotic creatures and stories of blurred cultural boundaries. I met Joel and Marianna, whom have been traveling the country and the world together with their two adopted sons for years. They are a love story that is riding the currents of a river; they flow together in whatever meandering direction they are lead.

I kept on. I secretly wondered if love would ever be around the next corner or adventure but always kicking myself for watching too many romantic comedies. One year, two years, three. It never did. Hopes flew away and I gripped tighter to my Thailand dreams of new species and conservation efforts. Science and nature are the only lovers a girl really needs. I drove myself deeper into books and self-exploration. It was a time in life that I will never regret happening. But at times, it was lonely.

You see, the thing with love is that it is always there. I know this now. It is always in us and waiting for the right person. I think sometimes I misunderstood and tried to love, but somewhere in me knew that it was never right. The thing with love, is that even if we are not it is patient.

When I first met him there weren't sparks or immediate witty banter that allowed us to stay up all night by the fire at the Red River Gorge that brisk, early fall evening. There were climbing jokes, conversations about farting, and promises of baked goods for finishing a can of beanie weanies. Nothing happened for a couple of months and I found myself feeling more and more like a dork in front of him in Geospatial lab as time passed. It was 3 months after meeting until our first "date" but we know through all of it Love had at last found that person that first weekend.

You see the thing with love is that when it becomes real you discover that that person does not take from your dreams but only makes them more fathomable. After school we are planning to move...to Southeast Asia. Knowing he will be with me and taking the same steps with me is far more comforting than I ever thought. I always said maybe I would find someone like this to go with me but shrugged my shoulders afterwards with doubt in regards to that reality.

This is something I would definitely urge any person to wait for. Each moment leaves me aching for another at the end of the day. I have learned his smiles and dreams, and finding myself wanting to be that reason he smiles and the prime supporter of his goals.

He is the sun that heats up the earth, the rain that cools the ground, the stars that guide the wanderer, the core that forms the landscape, and the breeze that carries the seeds and fallen leaves. We are the prose and love is our poetry.

I have to laugh at that last paragraph :)

"So Are You To Me"

As the music at the banquet
As the wine before the meal
As the firelight in the night
So are you to me

As the ruby in the setting
As the fruit upon the tree
As the wind blows over the plains
So are you to me

As the wind blows over the plains
So are you to me
So are you to me

-Peter Bradley Adams