You Chose Me

 I am more than likely the most difficult girlfriend in the world. I’m moody, sarcastic, and more violent than Boy would probably prefer. (No, I didn’t just punch you in the face. It’s a love pat. Because I love your face. Hard). More than once I have been described as a Sour Patch Kid, swinging from playfully cruel to sweet and loving in a matter of seconds.

Recently, as we were enjoying a delicious lunch on a sunlit patio, hand in hand, head on shoulder, dreaming about the days to come, something overcame me. I snapped. And punched the trash out of his sandwich. Smashed bread, and remnants of avocado lay strewn about the table, like a deli massacre, his face both amused and confused.

“You chose me,” was the only apology I offered.

Meant as a way to lay blame anywhere but on my own bipolar tendencies, the declaration rings truer than I sometimes want. He did indeed choose me. And equally as important; I chose him.

Our story is long and arduous, riddled with mistakes, doubt and an unworldly amount of patience. But instead of falling into love headfirst, emotions running high as we peered into each other’s eyes, stomachs full of butterflies, on top of the world, our relationship started by being placed on the line in front of us. Would we choose to cross the line, knowing the troubles, annoyances and worst faults of the other? Or would we choose to continue our search, hoping the next is a bit easier?

We chose each other. We chose this path.

Too often I find myself holding him at fault, reminding him of his imperfections with a passing comment meant to cut and reinjure wounds that we had laid to rest during our last spat. Slicing off the scab, my victory incomplete.

I chose him. Knowing it all, I chose him.  This wonderful man, who loves me in spite of me. I chose him.

The O.C. once taught me that ‘love is knowing all about someone and yet still wanting to be with them more than anyone else in the world’. That is about all the O.C. taught me that I have taken into my adulthood, oh, that and never dating the water polo captain.

My ‘and yet’ list may be long for him, but I can promise that his is longer. It is never easy to unveil your worst character traits, especially the ones you work hardest to hide.

1.    I have a wounding temper, and yet he steps into the storm every time.

2.    I gave up shampoo, and yet he still kisses my hair.

3.    I am selfish, and yet he remains selfless.

4.    I am flaky, and yet he is constant.

5.    I tend to laugh louder than most people scream, and yet he continues to tell me jokes in public.

6.    I show affection like a 12 yr old boy, and yet he grabs my hand.

7.    I make him eat vegetables, and yet he tells his friends I’m a great cook.

8.    I pee a little when I do my abs workout, and yet he does them with me.

9.    I don’t always act with respect, and yet he responds with patience.

10.  I am resistant, and yet he is always, unshakably persistent.

There are countless ‘and yet’ moments in every relationship you will ever be a part of. Why do we pretend that love should be any different?

If you claim to live in love, whether that is humanly or divine, you are claiming a life full of grace. Mercy must be underneath, around, on top of and through you. I have been hemmed in with love. Though easy to forget, the imperfections help us to see the true beauty of our lives.

What have you chosen that you complain about every day? Remind yourself that choices are not made once, but lived out and picked up daily. Choose those that matter. And choose them often. Choose them unfailingly. God chose you. And He will never back out of that.

“We Fall Apart” by We As Humans

You're a liar but I'm a coward so I can't throw a stone
We're so imperfect but so worth it because we're not alone

It's the wars that we wage, the lives that we take
For better or for worse

It's the lion we cage, the love and the rage
That keeps us wanting more

But isn't it beautiful
The way we fall apart
It's magical and tragic all the ways we break our hearts