The things that we do right (which I mostly credit to him):

1) We do our VERY best to see things from the other's perspective

2) We play.  We wrestle, laugh, tickle, tease, joke and generally find each other genuinely amusing

3) We LOVE doing things for each other.  I cook him nice dinners or breakfast in the morning or surprise pie.  He does little things to make me more comfortable like finding me a computer game I like, or setting me up a home office.

4) We make small commitments to each other (mostly at his behest).  We've committed to kissing each other good night, every night.  We've committed to getting out of the house at least once a week.  We've committed to keeping our bedroom and living areas live-ably clean.

5) We're completely deluded about how great each other is (mostly, I feel like he's deluded about how great I am).  I think that I have the man that every woman would kill to have.  And he seems to think that, despite my craziness and flaws, I'm his dream girl.

6) We give each other verbal affirmation every day.  He reminds me daily that he not only loves me, but likes me.  That he thinks I'm pretty.  I tell him as often as I think it that I think he's extremely attractive.  That he's the best man I could hope for.

7) We're not afraid to plan for the future.  We talk about going to Disney World together.  We talk about what our wedding will be like, or our kids, or what we'll be like when we're old.  And the thing is, most of it is initiated by him.

8) Our lives are open books.  He knows my passwords, I know his.  We work hard to foster trust.  (Despite some bumps in the road on my part).

Somehow, someone up there thinks I deserve good things.  I don't understand how this happened.  All of the sudden, I've got the job I've always dreamed of having.  I'm working for a company that cares about its employees and has a schedule that works for me, and does good, fulfilling work.  AND I have the most incredible relationship in my life.  How did this happen??  I kind of feel like pinching myself sometimes, because it's so hard for me to believe that I've gotten here.  That I'm in a place in my life where good things start happening.  Truly good things.  I grant that I've worked hard, and seen my fair share of disappointment and hard times, but part of me always kind of thought that that was just par for the course.  That I'd always struggle and have to make compromises.  Last year, at this time, I was fairly convinced that I'd be alone forever.  And I was working on making myself ok with that.  Part of me, of course, wasn't, but I did my damndest to be ok with it.  Had I been told, a year ago, that within two months, I'd have met a man that would make me feel happier than I've ever felt.  I'm not sure I'd have believed it.  But now, here I am.  Ridiculously, retardedly happy.  With someone who wants to make plans for the future with me.  With someone who cherishes me and what we have as much as I do.  Someone who will enjoy jumping in a gigantic puddle of mud and over a pit of fire as much as he enjoys attending a theater performance or a symphony event.  Someone who can talk intelligently about philsophy and history and current events and....everything.  Someone who isn't afraid to tell me how he feels about me, and ACT on it.  And, as if that wasn't enough, I've been hired on, at a fairly decent starting salary, at a company who does good things, and believes in good things.  I'll be able to continue my life pursuit to help hurt and neglected and abused children, by supporting foster families.  AND I'll be able to get paid for it.  AND get paid in a way that will allow me to survive comfortably.  What else can I ask for in my life??  I am surrounded with people who love me.  I get to do things I believe in and love.

Rainbow unicorn farts.  That's my life.  Seriously, honestly, lately, despite me being unemployed and super bummed about that, I feel like my life is all sunshine and rainbows and lollipops.  Last year, at this time, I couldn't have imagined it.  Last year at this time, I was miserable.  I wondered what was wrong with me that I couldn't find someone that I wanted to be with, who also wanted to be with me.  I wasn't willing to compromise what I wanted.  I wanted someone who would be available to me.  I know that sounds simple, but it wasn't such a simple task.  Some men I was with weren't able to commit to a relationship with me for one reason or another.  Some men I was with were emotionally unavailable.  Some men I was with felt like being available meant being around once a week, at best.  I didn't want that.  I wanted a committed relationship with someone who wanted the same things that I did.  A fulfilling, intellectually stimulating, committed relationship.  A family someday with kids.  But, last year at this time, I didn't see that on the horizon.  I remember having conversations with my friend Abbey about being ok with being alone forever.  I remember agonizing over what was wrong with me.  Hyperanalyzing every thing I did, thinking "Maybe this is it.  Maybe I'm alone because I'm too much of a tomboy."

Then along came Matt.  The weekend before I met Matt, I was house sitting for Abbey and her girlfriend while they took a vacation with their daughter to California.  I had an extra credit opportunity that I had to go to.  It was a screening of a movie on opening night of a film festival at UCCS.  I went.  Alone.  I didn't know a soul there, and everyone else was there with dates or groups of friends.  I drank a beer by myself, ate a falafel ball, watched the movie, and went home, depressed.  I had been exchanging emails with Matt on match.com for roughly a week.  That Sunday, he suggested we meet up to go get something to eat, and I agreed.  So, that Friday, we agreed to meet at a sushi restaurant, and "if we didn't hate each other" (his words), go to see Zombieland.

Our first date was....interesting.  He told fairly intimate details of his life.  I told how I got stabbed in the face.  He said he was sardonic in high school.  I said he was probably just mean.  I kept waiting for him to ask me questions, but sometimes we just sat silently.  We both laughed a lot during Zombieland.  I didn't even shake his hand when we agreed to call it a night.  But we planned for a second date.

And now, I find myself in the best relationship I've ever had.  The sardonic, quiet man from that first night turned out to be amazing.  Honest, funny, goofy, incredibly intelligent, loyal, well versed in many subjects, caring, involved, handsome, with integrity.  He LIKES having me around.  He wants me around.  He's committed to me and to us.  And, he thinks I'm something special.  Says I'm the best and most important thing in his life.  He's willing to help me reach my dreams.  I don't know what else I could ask for.  I'm the first girl he's ever brought home to meet his parents.  And now, after 9 months, it feels both like just the beginning and like he's been in my life forever.

I am in luuurrrvvvee.....  I forget sometimes.  Like if I'm sleeping.  Or........Umm... I guess that's really the only time that I forget.  But that's enough to count as sometimes.  And then I wake up, and the first thing I think about is "Hey there he is, all asleep and stuff.  I wish he would wake up so we can be in luurrrvvvee together.  Maybe if I stare at him long enough, he'll wake up."  So I stare.  For like 3 seconds.  And then I get bored and think "Maybe if I flop around like I'm sleeping, but need to adjust, he'll wake up" So I flop around for a while, and then peek back to see if he's awake.  But he's not.  So I get up and wander around and then get back in bed, thinking that maybe that kind of jostling will wake him up and then we can hang out and laugh at stupid shit and fart rainbows and unicorns.  Because that's what people do when they're in luurrvvee.  But he doesn't wake up then either.  And then, just when I'm about to fall back asleep, he wakes up.  And the rainbow/unicorn farts commence.  In all seriousness, somehow things just keep getting better.  I can't quite explain it.  I've been avoiding relationships for a long time because the work and the emotional toll was just too daunting.  The kind of maintenance that most relationships require is exhausting.  But I'm not feeling signs of fatigue at all in this relationship.  Its like a runners high, relationship style.  We keep talking about moving in together and I can't wait.  I know it's not going to be all sunshine and lollypops, but it's going to be pretty badass.  I don't laugh with anyone like I laugh with him.  It's easy to be with him.  He doesn't stress me out or make me feel anxious.  I never wonder what's happening in his head, because he always tells me what's happening.  I never feel like I'm second best, or like he feels like he's settling.  And I think about the most retarded stuff.  Like how beautiful our kids would be.  Or what our relationship will be like when we're old.  I know that its silly and premature to think about these things when we haven't made that kind of step yet, but I can't help it.  Because he's so wonderful and I wouldn't want anyone else but him to be in that position in my life.

So, I'm rather glad that no one reads this anymore, so that I can type without censoring myself.  Because I'm about to get sickeningly mushy.  I am so fucking in love, I can't even describe it.  It seems silly to me, because I know millions of people feel this way all the time every day, but I don't, and I didn't for a long long time.  For a long time, I felt like love was hard and tempestuous and tumultuous and scary and drama.  I was so so so wrong.  I have, literally, the most amazing man I've ever met in my life.  I've never felt like this about anyone before, and it's so great.  It's not scary and it's not dramatic and its not hard.  It feels...solid.  It feels healthy.  And he feels the same way.  We connect in a way that I'm not sure is common.  I feel so lucky to be with someone who complements my strengths and balances out my weaknesses so perfectly.  He is supportive in every way possible.  He's so patient and understanding and calm.  He thinks about things and is considerate of people and sees things in ways that not many people do.  We talked for a while, tonight, about our future.  Which excites the shit out of me.  I mean, I'm nervous.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm scared about all of this.  But its just commonplace nerves.  It's more exciting to know that he expects us to have a future together.  That he's willing to help me through grad school and law school.  That he sees us lasting.  It's only been seven months or so, but somehow, I don't need anymore than that to know what I want in my life.  I want him in my life.  We've bonded in a way that I don't see in many couples.  I know, I know.  Every couple thinks they're unique.  Every couple thinks that they share something that no one else has.  But, in most couples that I observe, I see some sort of imbalance.  Someone is more committed than the other.  Someone has more power than the other.  Something.  I don't feel that imbalance here.  In most of my other relationships there was definately an imbalance.  With him, I don't feel it.  We're balanced.  We fit.  We're going to have a beautiful future together I think.

So, it's the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend.  Three years ago, on the sunday of Memorial Day weekend, I was stabbed twice in the face with a screwdriver.  I can still remember that day as vividly as if it were last week.  It was close to the end of my shift.  I was tired.  I wanted to make sure everything was cool so I could go home as soon as I possibly could.  There was another supervisor on with me, but because I am who I am, I wanted to respond to everything first.  I wanted to be in charge.  So, when my friend who worked in Cedar house called meup to help deal with a situation, I went.  Leaving three kids alone in the admin building.  Smart choice?  Not at all.  I made a lot of dumb decisions that day.  I went up to the cabin, and there he was, with the screw driver.  The details leading up to the stabbing, I've gone over and over in my head.  I could have done a million and a half things differently.  I could have been supportive rather than combative.  I could have taken the other kids out of the situation,  eliminating the audience.  I could have been chill rather than confronting him and trying to show him who's boss.  Whatever.  In any case.  I did what I did.  And he stabbed me.  I remember the sound.  I remember the horror, feeling my tooth knocked back in my face.  I remember hearing myself scream but not identifying the sound with myself.  And the aftermath....  Not just the trip to the emergency room.  Not just trying to make it from Woodland Park to Memorial Hospital in the Springs in Memorial Day traffic.  Not just the look of horror on the police officer's face when I gave my statement and spat blood all over myself mid-sentence.  But the months afterward.  Not being able to watch violent movies without shaking with fear for months.  Feeling my scars and fully understanding how close the screwdriver had been from my throat.  Having to take out my tooth every time I ate, no matter where I was.  Having to tell the story over and over agian, every time I went to a new doctor, and seeing their expressions of horror.  Even now that happens.  My dentist, even my ob/gyn.  They all want to know what happened, how it happened, what happened to the kid, how old he was, what was wrong with him, and then they wax philosophical about the state of children these days.  All the while looking at me like there's something profoundly wrong with me to have done what I did for so long.  And maybe there is something profoundly wrong with me.  I've realized lately that I seem to have an inflated sense of injury to others and a diminished sense of injury to myself.  I endure things I shouldn't.  I don't have the confidence in myself to believe that I might be justified in feeling wronged.  I'm in one of those phases that make me feel inferior to everything and everyone.  I'll get better and I'll get over it.  I just know right now, that I feel....terrible.  Burdensome.  But, the thing is, I've realized that when I feel lonely or...incomplete, that I can't depend on anyone else but me to fix it.  Wanting others to fix my sadness is only a bandaid on a problem that only I can heal.

In my rhetoric and composition class this semester, we're reading a book about mental illness and how it affects people within the prison system.  We watched part of a movie called the Soloist today.  Its really hard for me to watch things like that, because I know many kids who will probably end up in similar situations.  On the street, raving, unable to get treatment because they're unaware that they need treatment.  Homeless.  In fact, I know of at least one kid who is homeless.  I remember, one Easter, sitting next to him and listening to him tell me all about how his girlfriend was an armadillo.  After he was discharged, the next anyone heard of him was that he was living under the Bijou bridge.  I know many kids who had early signs of schizophrenia.  Who were already medicated for bipolar disorder.  What will happen to them when they become adults and are no longer covered under Medicaid and are no longer wards of the state?  I imagine that a good majority of them will become homeless or end up committing some crime and wind up back in the prison system, where they will languish.  Or they will get caught in the revolving door of prison, committing crimes, being jailed for a while, until they are released and they commit more crimes.  It breaks my heart to know that that's the future of these kids that I loved and sacrificed for.  Some of them not, but many of them so.  Especially the young ones.  Like the boy who stabbed me.  I really did love him.  He was on his way to getting into a foster home when it happened.  And then, instead, he was committed for two years, where I imagine he got minimal treatment for his many issues.  So, he would have gotten out....last year, or maybe this year.  And he'll be 14 or 15. Bigger.  Still volatile.  Untreated.  And he'll most likely reoffend.  Because of one incident.  One day.  Because of my stupid decision.