One Fine Thing

A little over six months ago, I met a girl who said hi to me first because she's just a friendly person. In a world of cynics and jerks, this surprised me. I didn't think she at all had love on her mind, but she said hello to me just because I was a person and she was too. This wouldn't be her last or nearly greatest surprise for me.

Things with her have been almost effortless with her since. Besides asking her out. Like any rational woman, when I invited her to go to a wedding with me, having only met me once, she made sure to emphasize that we were just going as friends. We went as friends, sure, but we left a whole lot more.

Like I said though, effortless. We were together before we said the words out loud. I spent the kind of time with her I reserve for my closest friends when I had barely known her days.

I can't touch a door handle without thinking about all of the germs that live there and transfer to me on contact, but she's always been clean. Because of her, the world doesn't look so dirty.

The first day I spent with her, a big wedding where I knew almost no one, the hours ticked by like minutes. If my social anxiety was there, it was hard to notice beside her radiance. I exhaled as I looked at her, saw who she was already making me, and thought "Oh, there I am."

I had been gone for so long and she brought me back.

Here's a confession I think I made sometime before. Earlier in the year, before I met her, I was at one of my lowest points. I broke down crying listening to "By The Grace of God" by Katy Perry. "I know I am enough/Possible to be loved," she sang and I knew I didn't believe that. How could I? I had been so careless with myself and so had others.

She was careful.

She still apologizes about 1200 times a day. I never really know what she's sorry for, but I'm so thankful to have someone who so sincerely means she's sorry when she hasn't done anything wrong. She knows how to be careful, even six months later.

Back on that first night I met her, I was with friends and she was with her textbooks. She has a lot of them on her at all times, it seems. It was a warm night, the kind you don't mind spending time outside just talking for talking's sake.

She passed my group of friends and said goodnight and my brain screamed "Walk her home. Carry her books." I let her walk away instead.

A minute passed. Maybe two. My brain still screamed. It does that when I do something stupid. The conversation was happening around me, but I hadn't been listening. There was a girl, half a block away, with an arm full of books who I had to catch up with.

So I left the people I was with and ran to catch up with her. I carried what of her books she'd let me.

I still feel like I'm at that night, in a way. Running to catch up with her. She's younger than me, but I think she already knows how to be better than me. She makes me want to be better, at least. I feel better just being in her atmosphere.

And I'll still carry what's heavy for her, if she'll let me.

I pray she will.