passion or dedication?

My very best and dearest friend Lisa tends to offer me the clearest perspectives and much-needed advice, especially when I find myself poised on the edge of another emotional cliff, terrified and desperate.

She reminds me, most often, that I tend to rerun those piercing doubts when I'm being flooded with fertility hormones (progesterone?  estrogen?  concentrated female panic?), and that this is a storm that is pouring directly onto my head, blinding me to its temporary nature and its imminent cyclical return.  It's still impossible to keep from getting wet, in the midst of such downpours, but I'm grateful for the suggestions to pull out an umbrella and wait...because she's always right.  She hears the same misgivings and fears, she knows my ups and downs, and she's well-aware of my prior romantic failings.

My best friend Lisa is moving to Texas in two days, and I'm driving there with her to get her situated (and to keep her company on this major transitional journey).  I've so far been quite at peace with the prospect of another extremely close friend relocating, because in the age of cell phones and email and Facebook, I've hardly lost touch with anyone despite our geographical shortcomings.  Certainly the closeness changes, but we're each on our paths, and I am absolutely convinced that Lisa and I needed each other these last three years.  We've carried each other through some incredibly difficult times, held each other sobbing, kept an eye out for one another when we were hurting or struggling, laughed ourselves to tears, and learned as much as possible about ourselves and each other.  We've become sisters; this is someone who shares my spirit and my love and who does not judge me, even when I'm fully expecting judgment.

And today she told me not to forget this, and I need to write it down here so that in a couple weeks when I am drowning in hormones and panic, I can revisit these words and remember that the Universe is right on schedule:

This past holiday weekend, I spent nearly every hour of four consecutive days with Noah.  He invited me over, hosted a huge party/fish fry, cooked food, included me in/let me help with his projects, mentioned in passing that he brags about me to his coworkers, never once acted like he wanted to be alone or free of me, and had long conversations with me about anything that came up.

He and I went to his friend's house on Sunday, where we drank and watched HBO and chatted about life.  He and I did chores around his house on Monday, looking for projects to work on, and then drove out of town to rescue his friend (read: bring new radiator hose and coolant) who had broken down on the way to a family vacation in Pine Top, and then we got pulled over on the way back and yucked it up afterwards on the way home that it went so smoothly and that he was treated so kindly by the highway patrol.

And on Tuesday, I invited several friends out to a favorite bar and asked if Noah would like to meet up with us.  He was so enthusiastic that he invited several of his own friends to join us, and we all had a romping good time that night!

Here's the major point that Lisa made:  at this point, I should be done fretting about What This Means, because this man, who moves at his own pace and speaks his own love languages, is gradually but deliberately incorporating me into his life; mentioning me to his family and coworkers, including me in his major (and minor) activities, and not only eagerly meeting my friends but also meshing our social circles...men who don't want women around don't start implanting them into so many facets of their lives.

And so it is this point where I should start focusing more specifically on being a wonderful half of a wonderful relationship, that is official and legitimate and happy and possesses some sustaining potential.  I should focus on being centered, fulfilled, generous, cheerful, positive, and patient.

She mentioned a recent encounter with an OKCupid question inquiring, "What's more important for a relationship, passion or dedication?"  I've had plenty of passionate relationships, and I've always been left with my heart spent and my head spinning.  She compared it to logs on a fire; the little branches certainly ignite quickly and burn brightly, but they are short-lived and gone in minutes, while the logs take a while to catch and then a promising smolder develops, followed by increased warmth and light.

While I'm waiting for that language that I recognize, with words in sentences that I understand, the ways this man shares himself even more deeply, more earnestly, are more rooted in his actions and his time.  In dedication.  And it's almost like I don't know what loving dedication feels like, so I'll need to learn this language.

***

As a P.S., I asked Noah if he could burn me a NIN cd that I don't have, and he hustled right into his room and onto his computer to find it, but several minutes later had not accomplished it...so instead he simply unplugged his hard drive, in fact TWO of his hard drives, and handed them right over.  He said there were years of photographs on there, and who knows what else, and he just places them in my hands without a thought.  If I didn't feel like I'd be dancing out to the end of the most vulnerable twig of a branch possible, I would gush all day TO HIM about how madly in love with him I am, because it wells up in my chest and trickles out my tear ducts and stuffs up my nose... but he knows it, he knows I'm in love with him, and he hasn't pushed me away and he hasn't eased me out, he's given me an ever-more involved role in his world and I know he does exactly what he wants deliberately.

I'm almost embarrassed to plug his hard drive into my computer, and I certainly don't feel comfortable snooping through his photo albums.  But in essence, the man did give me carte blanche, so I hope I don't disappoint him!

being patient

I just read these words, "When we are impatient, we are in a hurry for things to be diffferent," and it hit me like a mass of air.

A month ago, I wrote in here that I wasn't going to "bop around and declare my love" for Noah, but since then I have mustered to courage to tell him directly, when I was sober (and terrified), that I really loved him.  He has not returned the declaration, but he hasn't been any less loving to me.  He's been more so, in fact.

My worries are that expressing that I am really in love with him will make him feel uncomfortable and he is being pressured to say it back to me.  He's really not the kind of person who gushes all over, but he is straightforward and articulate when he means to be.  He treats me with respect, does things I ask him to, makes time for me almost every time I request his company (which is surprising because I'm not used to that at all!), is affectionate in public, tries to make me feel better if I'm really down (and it works!), and gives me massages when I'm stressed even if he's nearly comatose.  He (and his friends) talk about plans for this summer and he refers to me as "the Crew" from whom he needs to discuss suggestions.  His roommate (who is moving out next week) talks to me as though I am now a permanent fixture in the "gang," and all his friends seem very comfortable including me in any of their group activities.

He and his roommate were discussing life the other night, and I was tired and laying across Noah's lap and listening.  Noah described his progress into adulthood and the new-found motivation to "grow up" and start living like an adult.  Six months ago, he mentioned frequently how he worked as hard as he did so that he could take it really easy in his personal life.  Now, his attitude seemed to shift toward pulling his shit together some more and having something to show for his hard work.  I'm not sure if that was because I was sitting there and he was telling me indirectly that his priorities had started to shift, but he said it, and I heard it.

A couple weekends ago, I went to watch Game of Thrones at Noah's friend's house, because I was uncertain how I'd catch up on the episodes I'd missed and the friends I usually watched it with were unresponsive to texts.  Noah and his friend went to the store for supplies beforehand, and Noah went off for another social engagement.  When I got to his friend's house, there was a bottle of wine Noah had picked out for me, because I don't drink much beer and he was looking out for me.  I know this man wants me to be happy and to have a good time.

I could cite a hundred examples of how he loves me, so it isn't a question of if he does, but when he will say it.  Maybe even if he ever will.  What if he's never told a girl he loves her?  I'm not nosy and haven't pried into his past love life at all, besides politely engaging him in conversation about things he's already brought up.  I know it's none of my business unless he wants to share, and that's how I feel about my own love life.  He doesn't know most of my dating history, and won't, because it's not what I want to discuss.  If he asked me pointed questions, there's a greater likelihood that I would divulge, but it's very important to me to avoid sharing details on prior relationships because I'm biased against most of them (now that they've ended, of course).

Because I'm not prompting him to share, I also don't think it's my place to ask if he's ever been in love or said it to someone before.  His roommate's wife told me that in the several years she's known him, he hasn't been with anyone significant, and in the six months he's been with me, he has changed quite a bit.  Apparently they all discuss the changes in him.  People in my life talk about how I've changed, too.  I'm calmer and more positive overall.

I've noticed that my own qualms and hangups include looking directly into his eyes.  I just can't seem to do it, even though I used to be able to do that.  Lately I've been making progress, and actually trying to look him in the eyes for a little longer than a glance just before I kiss him.  I had relied mostly on the visceral wave of sensation when we get intimate, which for me is a strong indication of connection, but is probably the result of my relying on physical connection to validate myself most of my life.  Cuddling has been easy; he never shrugs me off.

It's just that in words, I am so much more comfortable.  I crave hearing those things I would happily say, on repeat, because in words I can relate.  I want him to tell me how much he loves me, how beautiful he thinks I am (which he does say sometimes), he happy he is with me, and that he's grateful for me.  I realize that all these things are basically a commitment, because in words things are so much more tangible, so much more concrete.  He openly resisted the idea of even being in a relationship, and has since started agreeing with his friends that I am in fact his girlfriend.

So why am I impatient?  I don't want things to be different.  I love this man and I want him to keep treating me like a friend and a lover.  I'm not sure why I so deeply crave for him to express himself in ways he doesn't seem eager to do.