Right now, Dan and his pack of loyal devotees are tearing up the highway between Sacramento and Richmond. I think they’re somewhere near Lincoln, Nebraska right now. They left from Sacramento on Thursday morning, planning to stop a couple of times to sleep as they got tired. Today I was informed of a change of plans: the madmen are doing it without stopping to sleep. Part of me is a little alarmed that they won’t be getting much rest, and that I won’t have as much time for cupcake-baking and such before their arrival. But I know that there are plenty of them to rotate driving shifts, and their excitement is keeping their energy levels and spirits high. I just can’t believe I’ve finally imported such an amazing person who’s delivering himself nearly to my doorstep without a second thought. This has never happened before! Actually that’s not entirely true. But this is still really exciting! I’m bizarrely devoid of worries, and all the possibilities for my life are making my head swim. We’ve already been so happy and made progress so easily, that I can’t wait to see how fantastic it’ll be with one of our major roadblocks destroyed: distance.
It’s funny how hard we try to make things work when we can’t see the alternatives past our noses. In the past I’ve wasted hours of beauty and devotion on people like lazy art school fail-outs with senses of entitlement bigger than Texas. In contrast…how silly I feel for doing those things. Ignoring all the signs of doom and destruction, clawing at what I thought was the best I could get. It makes me feel absurd to look back on those times, knowing how simple and clear things are when love is really there. And if it’s not there, then obviously there’s no point in salvaging the “relationship,” or lack thereof. Why does it take human beings so long to figure these things out? For me I think it was that I never had a long period of being single until the last few years, and it has worked wonders for my sense of reality and purpose in the world. How blinded one can be from all the trivial circumstances surrounding one and clouding one’s eyesight.
I guess I can’t regret any of the hard-headed (as Dad would say) things I once did. They’ve made me who I am. I just regret wasting that precious time…every second of which was a gift from God, or “Providence” as they’d say in AOGG. Daron said something like “You finally learned to like yourself as much as everyone else does,” but maybe that’s a bit of a glorification. I think I am just unwilling to be miserable. Boys or no boys. Clouds or no clouds. Thomas Jefferson or no Thomas Jefferson. Wait! Wait, wait, stop. There has to be Thomas Jefferson.
Speaking of time, I have no idea why I’m sitting here wasting time reflecting on myself. I must have hallucinated for a second and thought that my life doesn’t run at the speed of a freight train. I’m actually stopping at home for a hot sec between dinner with my cousin and Rock Lotto to see Talia play. I packed in sweeping the porch, opening mail, re-potting a plant, and changing a lighting situation in the living room between work and dinner. Post-Rock Lotto will be for doing a few more things around the house before I have three boys crashing here in a few hours.
They ought to be rolling into the slow-paced, smiling, always-loving arms of Richmond early tomorrow afternoon. I can’t believe I only have a few hours left before the next step is officially taken: living in the same town together. Unbelievable. As Prabir said the other night: “Tess you’re what? 25? Oh, 26. Man. This could be it.”
This Thanksgiving I’ll have more for which to be thankful than ever before. I feel like Thanksgiving has already started for me, because I’ve been so disproportionately blessed this year. I have a lot of work to do in thinking always about how to pay it forward.
What’s funny is that probably one of my deepest desires isn’t to have a great job and money and a fancy couch and a radical boyfriend. It’s to have a kinder, gentler spirit and to just exude understanding and love at all times. And stop being such a Scarlett O’Hara by nature. And yet, we are who we were designed to be. I need to try to work with the cloth from which I’ve been cut.