Thoughts processed early Wednesday morning

“A good woman will pick you apart,
a box full of suggestions for your possible heart.
But you may be offended, and you may be afraid,
but don’t walk away, don’t walk away.”
-Land Locked Blues, by Bright Eyes

I took this advice close to my chest, hugging it near while it became clear I’d found the right woman for me. A beauty with intellect and shrewd words that weave together stories and actions and, yes, criticism, a biting wit that could build you up or take you apart. She looks into your eyes and tells you what can make you better, not with cruelty or malice, just simple, unfiltered truth. And here I discovered that she is the kind that cares the most, a woman who cares enough about me not to shelter me with worthless platitudes that work like counterfeit money: looking good on the counter, but being ultimately worthless.
There are countless generations of moms that will do anything to make you feel like you’re the greatest person on the earth, yet those words do not motivate change or move you at all. One such as myself will remain in a stagnant state, an unchangeable mass that cannot move through life or beyond their basic forms, unless acted upon by another force stronger than themselves. I have found this stronger force, this woman who pushes my boundaries and my limits, who continually inspires me to change.
There were times where I resisted this, when I claimed I liked the way I had always been. But as days and soon months went by, I realized that as I changed I began to like myself more. I had been dissected and found out for what it was that could be improved upon, and soon I came to enjoy these changes that were coming towards me.
Before I met her, I had never tasted eggplant or spring rolls or even sushi. I had never worn a button-down shirt unless required, never actually held my attention to a project of any kind for more than a few weeks. Now I crave California rolls on a daily basis, never leave home without looking good, and I have been going strong for eight months with a story that I write with her almost every night. There are times when I’ve asked myself if I do this for me or her, and I’ve realized that I’ve done it for me. I can see now that I needed the outside energy and motivation from this wonderful woman to change myself, to know that I really can push the limits that are all around me, so I can change who I am to reflect my passing age.
I really feel like I’m rambling right now, which is probably because it’s so damned late, but all I can think of is one last point that I need to make: I love this girl, for reasons I know and reasons I don’t. She makes me laugh, she makes me learn, she makes me feel lucky just to be in her presence. And I know that we’re connected, through an immutable bond of friendship and love that can’t be adequately described just with words.
She is my friend, my love and my companion through life and fiction all around.

~ by scriken on April 1, 2009.