Oops, I fell off the face of the earth

So, last I posted was, umm, Sept 29. And you will notice the above date says it is, um, Oct. 14.

So much for recording a positive and negative item every day, but rest assured, I have mentally noted them.

Basically planning a wedding and teaching 9 classes and coaching cheerleaders has consumed all my time. Oh, and somewhere in there, I am actually married. But it's all good.

I have nothing fabulously interesting to record right now either, except that I turn 25 in a week and a half and that officially makes me an "Adult" and not a "young adult." In my world at least. Getting a real job didn't. Getting married didn't. Living in a house didn't. But geez- TWENTY-FIVE. If I live to be a hundred then a quarter of my life has passed me by already.

What a sobering thought. I can't get any of those years back. Granted, some I would not like to have. The Past can keep them, but there are many days and years which I would like to live again- just to relive the good moments, good times, important moments, life-changing moments.

For instance:

In the nearer Past, I would like to relive the day CB asked me to marry him. What a glorious day that flew by and now all I have left to cherish is my memory of it. And a ring. And a marriage. But whatever, it would be nice to have the day to do again too. Just for fun. You spend your whole life anticipating this one moment, and then it's gone. Forever.

I would like to relive driving around town one winter day in high school when the roads were slightly icy. I was with my cheerleading friends and we were going to the library to work on a research paper. We sang loudly and badly in my 1986 Mercedes 190E which had a trunk you had to sit on to unlock it and a cooling fan you had to unplug when it was parked and not running lest you run the battery down.

I would like to relive getting accepted to college.

I would like to relive my freshman year of college with my fabulous roommate SB, who has become my friend for life. And yes, whore, I would even like to relive taking you to the hospital when you had mono. Though I am confident you would not relive that year like I would.

I would like to relive cheering with my high school cheerleading squad in competitions and being so phenomenally good at stunting with my stunt group. We were amazing. Not even lying.

I would like to relive senior year of college. Over and over. I mean, the first part was a bit rough, what with a messy breakup and all. But the months that followed? Heavenly. It was a lot of work, but man, I loved school. I loved hanging out with my friends. I loved being an RA. I started to date CB. I got a real job in January, months before I graduated.

I would NOT like to relive, however, the summer after graduation. I cried. All the time. I mourned my college career. I mourned being in the same city with CB. I worried. I felt lonely. I was a mess.

But these past two, now two and half years? Have been excellent overall, if I do say so myself. Not that there hasn't been "bad" because there has. But I have learned a lot.

There were moments in that summer after I graduated from college that I thought to myself, "Eff. The best years of my life are over now."

And moments after CB and I got married that I thought, "Eff. Now what do I have to look forward to? (besides the actual wedding) All the big stuff is over now."

But, life keeps surprising me, and I keep trying to be hopeful that there are many more exciting moments to come. After all, the pinnacle of life can't be in the first 25 years can it? I sure hope not. How depressing.

Nostalgia and a love story

Being a history major and what not, I have always LOVED looking back at the past. My past. Your past. Any past really. I think it is important for understanding the present. 

In the midst of the school year, under stress and what not, I tend to focus explicitly on the present. I don't think about my ever so awesome college days (have I mentioned that those years were possibly some of the best of my life?... I am quite sure this will remain true until I die). I don't think much about my high school days. Actually, that is kind of a lie. I think about my high school days when trying to figure out what the heck is wrong with kids these days and OMG did I ever act like that/do that/think that/say that? The answer is probably yes... but still. I am older and slightly wiser now. I hope. 

Today, when moving around some stuff in my apartment to make room for my NEW bedroom furniture, courtesy of my mother as her wedding gift to CB and I (way early, yea, but we had to get it now or it would be gone in 6 months!), I stumbled across a box of notes, cards and letters ranging from high school to sophomore year of college. There were notes from friends, notes from old boyfriends, a journal I kept from 1999-2000 (HAAAA) and some serious love letters from an old college boyfriend. I read the letters, not because I miss this person or have any remnant feelings for him, but because I was interested to remember what this person had to say to me. 9 pages. 9 pages of why I should not be dating someone else (I was at the time). Of why he loved me. The letter was beautifully written, and were I not completely and totally in love with my husband to be, I would be completely, without a doubt moved to tears by this letter (I wasn't however, because I am completely and totally in love with my husband-to-be). This person wrote in the most eloquent fashion things every girl longs to hear about herself. Things every girl longs to have said to her in the first place.

This pushed my mind further into nostalgia to remember what went wrong, and why such a beautifully written, heartfelt, heart-wrenching letter could not change it. And why CB and I seem so suitably matched with one another, though he has never written me such an eloquent letter in his life, nor described me in such an eloquent, beautiful way. 

The answer is this: Things went wrong with the exquisite writer not because he is a bad person, or because he was bad to me... they went wrong because we probably should not have been together in the first place. He was/is brilliant, motivated, cute in his own way... but I never had feelings for him the way I did for CB the minute I found out he liked me. When I found out this person liked me... I was curious, but not excited. I was interested, but not dying for him to ask me out. Our first date was awkward and I was wishy-washy for months. We were on again, off again, and it wasn't until he blew me off that I became really interested. It sucks really. Because we both had to go through a lot of pain in the end because I forced something I wasn't even sure about.  He was such a beautiful writer and I am honored he wrote such things to me, though it was never meant to be.

CB? CB writes notes to me in crayon. He purposely, and sometimes not so purposely, mispells words and we use silly words to talk to each other. CB draws me picture books with hippos, because (don't ask) we have somehow managed to make this our nickname for each other.  CB sends me fake 'bills' in the mail, billing me 10,000 kisses, just so I will have something other than junk mail to open and I will have something to make me smile. CB has never written me a letter telling me that I am the most honest person he has ever known, and that I make him smile more than anyone ever has. Nor has he told me that I make his heart burn with love for me. When he proposed, he never said that he has never known someone more beautiful, more passionate, more caring, etc. etc. He simply said, "You are my love and my companion." 

CB has never written me eloquent love letters, but CB and I are more suited to one another than anyone I have ever known. CB and I happened upon each other. Finding out that CB liked me/was going to ask me out was a complete and utter surprise. When I was informed of this, I was giddy. CB? Really??! I asked. CB was hootttt. CB was so smart. CB was responsible. CB could have intelligent conversations with me. CB was fun. CB was a good, kind person. CB was the perfect guy- and I had told this to a friend of mine when I was trying to hook HER up with him the year before (CB and I were friends for some time before any of this). Not that the eloquent writer wasn't any of these things, but something was just... missing. 

I eagerly waited for CB to ask me out. We went on a non-date date and my heart was jumpy. We stayed up till 3 am several nights in a row talking about anything and everything- school, faith and God, our pasts, the future, our goals, etc.- and awkwardly shifting because OMG is he going to kiss me EVER? When he did finally kiss me I was all jittery. We spent 7th months finishing college together. Seeing each other daily. Waiting for each other to finish classes. Hanging out in each other's dorm rooms. Eating dinner in the cafeteria together. Walking each other to class. Driving around our city on beautiful days. He was my instant best friend and companion. 

One day we left the cafeteria at lunch, grabbing our usual fortune cookies from the massive basket. He opened his but there was no fortune. I opened mine, and finished eating the cookie and threw away the wrapper before I would read it (I am superstitious in that way... it won't come true otherwise : ) ). I stood there with my fortune reading, "The love of your life is right in front of your eyes." CB asked me what my fortune was; I looked up and it was him. 

I don't need eloquently written love letters. I don't need to be described in a way that girls only dream of. Crayon love notes and hippo books will do me just fine for the rest of my life, because eloquent letters aren't needed when the love and admiration and respect is understood between you with a smile, or a look, or a silly lovey comment, or just holding hands and taking a walk.