Some things are just no good. Some things, quite frankly, suck. Snow filled, freezing winters happen to be one of them. My biggest fibromyalgia battles happen to be against the weather. (Big surprise, I should try to fight something I have no control over…) Temperatures in the teens and twenties make me unbelievably tired, makes my joints ache, skin and lymph nodes hurt, and my muscles severely protest existing. Right now we have about 3 inches snow still, and it’s been around for about a week. So I should have known. But last night, my chest felt like I was in a poorly placed corset being laced by an ogre. Despite my best efforts, the pain impacted my attitude. And Oz and I encountered that 4th relationship again, where both of us are sick.
When that happens, we get into a silly disagreements. Like whether puppies are cute or not (okay, slightly exaggerated, but you get it).
That is all they are: disagreements. But it gets me down. I keep the things I love very close to me, orbiting around my heart. When something injures the things I love, my heart feels it directly. So disagreeing at length over something like whether this puppy is cute or not is crippling. I certainly take it to heart.
Luckily, Oz knows just how to handle it. He told me very honestly, that our little squabbles and crabbiness is completely arbitrary. It doesn’t garner any attention in the big picture. “This is so much bigger than that,” he insists. “We are so much bigger than that.”
That was really hard to swallow. It goes against a lot of established rules for me. I have always been forced to play by three-strikes-you’re-out, where second chances are few and far between. And the exceptional aspect of Oz’s powerful sentence was coming to understand that he feels just as seriously about this relationship as I do.
“We are so much bigger than that. Take heart,” he said.
I got to spend New Year’s Eve with his family. Maybe it was the energy of such a momentous occasion. Maybe it was the love that they had for one another and the way it hung in the air infectiously. Maybe it was the magical kiss Oz and I shared to usher in the New Year. But my heart shifted on New Year’s Eve. Like I told Oz, it is as though my heart found gravity. I can finally anchor all those things that are orbiting me. So many questions and decisions were quietly and efficiently answered. And I see only one path before me.
I just have to make it through the winter (and many winters to come), remembering to take heart.
Marilyn Monroe is quoted as saying, Good things fall away so better things can fall into place. I find myself contemplating this as I say goodbye to 2012. What a year. If you had told me that I would have finally gotten Oz this year, and that it could be so good, I am sure I would have doubted you. And wouldn’t have dared to hope.
2012 was a year of “The Best’s” for me: The Best Thanksgiving, The Best Christmas, The Best New Year’s Eve (post coming soon!), The Best dreams, The Best adventures, and The Best loves I have ever known.
So I struggle to even imagine how better things can fall into place. Lucky for me, I don’t have to imagine them. I can feel them. And it is going to be great.
I resolve to take heart in 2013. And then to take my heart, and give it to him.