Not in like, moving in with your boyfriend “together” but in like, back-breaking, sweaty, lugging boxes up and down stairs, lifting furniture, driving for hours at a time, type of moving. Now imagine its an apartment of all your dusty, dog-hair-covered stuff including shoes you’ve never worn, Tupperware you haven’t opened in a month, weird questionable items your boyfriend looks at you quizzically with, and half the hair on your head clogging the shower drain.
And just for fun, then try looking at stacks of boxes and big furniture after you finally have packed and organized and cleaned everything and realizing, “Oh hey, I don’t know how I’m moving this out of the apartment and 40 miles away… TODAY*****. (The VeeDub ain’t cut out for moving, by the way, not even a studio apartment worth of stuff….)”
***Also, this whole move the past two weeks has left me broke and I hate U-haul anyway so no, I don’t believe in renting trucks.
I ain’t gonna lie, I am a huge-stupid-giant-procrastinator (see also: poor planner.) Physically, that is. Mentally, I think I have it all figured out. I consistently recalibrate my plans when my time management doesn’t work, when my plans run into hiccups, but I give myself juuust enough time to get things completed. Most people probably cover their bases well ahead of time. They have a plan b to a plan a to a plan z.
In my opinion, people probably plan with too much time. The theory behind this is that if you plan too far ahead, your plans are subject to fall through.
That’s why I leave things to the last minute. Society is instantaneous and spontaneous and if you throw something out there, someone will reply. (Mainly, Craigslist people.)
ANYWAY, the whole packing and cleaning process was blissful with my wonderful boyfriend. We looked back at the past week with smiles, loving how close we are to each other, how prayers DO get answered, how my career is finally what I’ve wanted, how opportunity was everywhere, how much more we need to give back to God throughout our lives to make up with how much we’ve been blessed with, all of the adventures we’d have in San Diego…. We took a break, had breakfast/lunch, drank Slush Puppies (ahem, too quickly…), ate Hot Cheetos, listened to the radio, sang along, made plans for our future when we’d be moving in together…
Yet in between all of that heavenly, gorgeous, back-breaking, achy, Bleach-scented time, were moments sprinkled with, “Is this it? Are we going to kill each other?” That moment where you stare at each other’s eyes like, “Are you KIDDING ME??” and you start sweating because your hearts beating so fast and you’re pretty sure you have steam coming out of your ears and your face is beet red.
We’d retreat to our sweaty corners and reset.
Not consciously. I think we were more afraid of saying something awful we’d regret so we’d just walk away and fume in silence until we realized, “Ughhh this is SO boring alone…. I’m gonna go see what my boyfriend/girlfriend is doing.” Then we’d be like, “Sorry, you were right I probably shouldn’t let my hair clog the shower.” Or “Sorry, you were right, your Craigslist ad was better.”
At the end of the day, my apartment looked empty and great and my future looked filled with love and amazingness. We drove into the sunset into SD county, fighting hunger and fatigue, and were both happy that fiasco was all over.
Sometimes when you’re in a relationship, people focus too much on each battle than they do about the whole war. As contradictory as it sounds, I feel like we’re fighting for love. For acceptance. For unconditional belonging. My boyfriend and I both know we have found that for now. So, sometimes for the sake of being with each other, we have no problem just waving a white flag or actually admitting, “Dude, sorry I was wrong you were right about (everything.)” Because how important is it to be right about how to pack a box than how you understand where you came from?
Even if you win the battle, you haven’t won the war. And in this weird way, we’re in the war together. So its cool that we can be like, “I’m pretty sure I hate you right now but I know you’re an awesome person and I genuinely love you and I know you understand me, so I’m going to forgo my pride or just admit I was wrong (eventhoughiwasright) for the peace of this relationship.”
Of course, this has to happen both ways because one person can’t be right ALL of the time.
If you ever wonder if you are right, look at Jesus. Did he do what you did/want to do?
I hate that whole “What Would Jesus Do?” You honestly don’t know.
You know why? Because you’re not Jesus.
“What Do You Think Jesus, Our Savior, Would Do?”
That’s a better question.
Not act like an a-hole probably.
And that is what I have learned.