Thoughts on Hippies and Mexican Models…Kind Of…
I want a chill, just a good solid chill to run through my entire body whenever our eyes meet. I don’t know if that happens to girls, though. I always read about it happening to dudes whenever “the most beautiful girl” he’s “ever seen” looks at him. It’s even biblical, “You’ve captured my heart…you’ve captured my heart with one glance of your eyes…”
But I’ve never heard of that happening to a girl, which kind of sucks for us. Maybe I just need to stop reading books written by guys, either that or girls need to step it up and start writing about how they really feel, instead of just stupid crap like who is going to be the better man in the end. We do that though, all of us, me too. Ladies make lists of the perfect qualities; we check them off whenever we meet someone new who catches our eye (no, I’m not kidding). Like some magic formula. But that’s crap, love isn’t a formula. God is love, even the good ole’ hippies got that in saying “Love is the drug”…well, they kind of got it. I always admired the real hippies, but I’m not writing about hippies right now (maybe later). I’m writing about love. And God. Because they are one in the same.
I’ve noticed it more and more as I’ve drawn closer to God, I started out curious, fell in love, and then fell into just knowing. Safety, comfort, familiarity, trust. Like with my family, they know me, and that’s how I know that they love me. Today my little brother brought me a tub of gummy bears, because they’re my favorites, and my mom always has the fridge stocked with apples and green chile whenever I come home…and this explains why I could stand to lose about twenty pounds…but never mind that, they know what I like. Nothing in the world makes me happier than that, nothing makes me feel more loved than being known. And no one knows me like God; He knows my voice, what I need, what I want, and what makes me happy, even if I don’t. Sometimes, most the time lately, I’ve found myself at a loss for words with God, but I’m realizing that it’s ok. He’s here, with me, like mom is sitting across fro me reading her book, but we’re still together. We can look up and exchange a smile or a word, without worrying about awkward silences. We’re comfortable. God is showing me that’s an ok place to be with Him, too. I don’t always have to always have something to say, or ask for, just be content in His presence. It’s nice.
I used to think that I had to go to God with some long prepared monologue, like one that I would have for a first date. Because I think that is what we reduce love to, we sell ourselves, the whole process of falling in love has turned into one person trying to convince the other to love them. That’s not what it’s supposed to be, and that’s not what I want either. I heard that men are more likely to not marry than marry a woman that they don’t love, but not us ladies. The way it usually goes is that if the man meets our standards, and can offer us security, then he’s good as gold. But I think that men often do the same the thing, men look to women for their value and strength, a woman is some who “needs” them. It’s like we just turn to each other to get something. Not because our souls are lonely and weary, looking for someone to run with. Someone who understands our madness and quirks. A partner, I love that term, “partner”, a teammate, a helper. I personally think that “partner” is the most endearing and romantic term ever, better than girlfriend or boyfriend, mate, wife or husband, better than even lover.
An old best friend of mine used to call me partner; I was in love with the boy. We even used to joke that I’d be his best man, if of course, I wasn’t the bride. He’s getting married in a month to a lovely girl who looks like she could be the model on a jar of “authentic Mexican” salsa, wearing a ruffled red, green, and white dress and a sombrero. In case you hadn’t figured it out yet, she’s not to me. It’s ok, you don’t have to cry for me, I’m over it. But our relationship was kind of what I want now. I just liked being with him, laughing, crying, sometimes even just being still, there was no pressure, I didn’t expect anything from him and he didn’t expect anything from me. That’s the way love is supposed to be. I just want that natural, organic, “let’s just sit next to each and be ok with the silence” kind of love.
Posted on February 24, 2008 11:59 PM
