Keeper

The other night I was in a foul mood. I’d had a terrible day at work, and Jesus missing a call to hang out was the tiny straw that broke the camel’s back. I did what I often do when I’m upset: I regress. When I get to that place, I become completely childish. I’m stubborn and bratty and expect people to read my mind and know what I want. But I don’t even know what I want; all I know is that I DON’T WANT ANY OF THE THINGS PEOPLE ARE OFFERING ME. I know it’s difficult to deal with and I can tell when I’m doing it, I just can’t make myself stop having the tantrum.

A lot of people run away when they start to have to deal with that part of me. Sometimes, I act like that to see if they’re willing to stay with me even at my most difficult, to weed out those that can’t handle me, though I don’t always realize that’s what I’m doing at the time.

I cried and pouted and gave vague answers and was passive-aggressive and got mad at Jesus over things he hadn’t done wrong (especially since I hadn’t told him what would be “right”) for 3 hours before he finally said he was coming over. He biked 20 minutes in 20 degree weather, walked in the door, and crawled in my bed and held me.

I started sobbing and apologizing for being difficult and bratty but he shushed me and said, “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. We’re okay. I love you no matter what, and your bad days are never going to change that. And then I cried even harder because I felt like I didn’t deserve someone so wonderful.

He somehow saw through all my bullshit and wavering and difficulty and figured out exactly what I needed. I think I’m gonna keep him for a while.