I realize I haven't written in a while. I could blame many reasons for this, but I'll just be honest: I got lazy and my inspiration ran dry. I'm not entirely sure if I've recovered my muse or not, but I feel compelled to write, and that has to be a good sign, right?
All my life, I've been a planner. This probably stemmed from being the first-born, the first grandchild thrust with ridiculous expectations set from a particular group of grandparents, the fact that my father is also a planner, and that there have been many events that have been outside my control. Death, change, loss, disappointment, and the like is nothing new to me. And no matter how much I've tried to prevent it or to better it, I have failed. It was going to happen, despite my best efforts to the contrary.
Which is why I like to have structure. With structure comes control, and if I'm in control, I feel calm, collected, and accomplished. Before I go to bed, I think about things I have to do tomorrow, not with dread, but with anticipation. Hang up pictures on my walls? Do laundry? Write? If I'm especially bored in a lecture now that school has started, I flip open my notebook and pretend to take notes when, really, I'm making lists. Like To-Do Lists. Those are my favorites. When I check off something I've done, I get the satisfaction one might feel for doing well on a test or achieving orgasm.
My friends think I'm ridiculous. And, okay, I can sort of see where they're coming from. Planning a time to make plans may seem a little excessive, no matter how normal it is to me. But I think they love me for it too, and whether they admit it or not, without some of my plans, events and things may not have happened. Plus, there was a study in Cosmo that said people who have something to look forward to were happier than those who weren't. So even a credible source was justifying my lifestyle.
But in my twenty years, I've realized that in some aspects of your life, there shouldn't be plans. And when it comes to courtship, there shouldn't be any plans.
This was obviously hard for me to grasp, especially since I'm seeing this guy and I like spending time with him. There was a point in our courtship when I was worried I had ruined what we had by asking to have a sex talk (to which he replied, "You really like to plan for everything, don't you?") when really, I just wanted to be prepared. Things just felt... off. But then I talked to my step-mom and she said something so simple and so life-changing that it stopped me: "You can't ruin it if he's the right guy."
Then I talked to my best friend Jessie because a girl can't just talk to one person, and she told me that the guy should be lucky to be with me. That I'm beautiful and smart and talented and if the guy can't see it, then he's a douche and I shouldn't waste my time on him. And really, there was no reason why I should be so caught up in this one guy, especially if we're just dating. I should be happy with myself, and normally I am. You shouldn't make plans around a guy who you're not sure will call you to hang. You should live your life and if it's meant to be, it will.
And then, life just clicked. I realized that I should enjoy the moment, enjoy the time we have together. Make plans means there's some form of obligation. But if there are no plans and he does text me from Vegas to tell me that he's staring at this guy who's wearing socks and Crocs (disgusting, by the way), it's because he wants to, not because he has to. And surrendering, putting your trust in the universe and knowing it really, truly does have your best interest at heart, is kind of liberating. And I've been happier now than I was wondering if I should make plans, deciding not to go to a movie in fear that he may text me.
Because once that clicked for me, let me tell you, he texted me while I was in Prince of Persia. Then he texted me the next night. And then he texted me a couple of days later. And it was like a happy surprise, a reward for having faith. Not only in the universe or in him, but in myself. That I am worth it. That he should be lucky to spend time with me.
And okay, I know I'm going to have trouble with it. So I'll just do what my father does: I'm going to plan to not have plans. Because that totally works.
Or I'll just plan something that actually constitutes me having plans. Like my twenty-first birthday party that, okay, is maybe exactly three months away, but hello - it's my twenty-first and there's so much I want to happen that it needs to be planned so far in advanced.
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