In a culture where we are bombarded by images of who we should be and who deserves love based on how we look, it's so easy to think that the messy & ordinary don't have a shot at all. So we fall into the paradigm of wanting to be perfect because when we finally get our act, together, it will come.
I never quite realized that by putting up a front, and a mask we never take off, we lose the essence of love and what it stands for.
Love isn't perfect, and neither does it only choose the "ready" because in truth, when are we really ready? Nobody is ever ready for what it causes the heart to endure, but often we are ready for the one that is worth it.
In fact love, the real kind, goes beyond that kind of superficiality. Love understands the silly, neurotic parts of who we are and surprisingly so, chooses to love us.
Love sees how we look in the morning, and when we dance and still thinks we're adorable. Love is a perfect mix of hope, answered prayers, and an anxiety of losing it.
Love captures your heart and makes your heart drop without any warning. But it's the good kind.
Because of my neurotic type A personality, I've always wanted things in my life to be in a classified box, with no mess and all in order. I've always been terrified to show the crazy parts of me out of the fear that nobody wants a mess. I'm slowly learning to see the beauty of life through the cracked edges.
But life & love are never neat or in a straight line, I've read that so many times and yet never truly got it until tonight.
I don't know the point of this cheesy, so unlike me entry, but maybe for the first time ever, I'm realizing that life and the people in it might be entirely different than what I pictured it, but maybe, just maybe it could be better.
It feels nice to write again from my ❤ after so long of just letting it all in. May our week be filled with answered prayers, and little "I can't believe you did that God" moments.
It's a good life.