I Love Whit!

Not for Whit and I as a pair, but for each of us individually.

My roughness – I’ll leave that alone

Whit’s roughness – tough day which will lead to a tough rest of the school year. It makes me so frustrated for her. She is the most responsible person I know. She’ll be early to her own funeral – mark my words. But her stupid school can’t get their crap together and it results in emergency and panic for her. I hate that. She, more than anybody, deserves early information because she’ll budget her resources appropriately. 

Mark my words, if she loses sleep because your process is crap, I’m coming after you. Period.

…and I can’t wait!

Whit has helped me out in my joblesness. The computer repair market is pretty dry. And I decided that it’s more important in my life to get done with school and hit it hard. I’ve been taking classes for several years, but since I’ve always been working full-time, I’ve also only been taking 1 or 2 classes per semester. Makes (junior) college take forever. And I feel like a bum. So I decided to re-prioritize and put school first. After all, Whit graduates this year and I’m still in JC. And 4 years older than she is…

Since school is first, work is second. So being totally broke is a new part of my life. And I hate it. I feel like a leach, a bum, worthless. It’s really really bad for my psyche. Whitney has helped and taken care of me in some really tremendous and generous ways. Big ways. But the way I want to talk about is one a less grand scale, and means the world to me.

For my math class, I needed a specific calculator. Not a fancy one. And not expensive — south of 25 bucks. But I couldn’t afford it.

Whit, on her way over to my house, stopped and bought me my calculator. She didn’t blink. She didn’t have a second thought. She just bought it for me so that I could be successful in my math class. And that means the world to me.

Perhaps the thing I love most about Whit is that with her, I’m the best version of myself. She lifts me up rather than drag me down. Very very few people can say that. Most couples drag one another down in some way. They cause the other to compromise somehow. But not Whit. I know that with her, I’m better than I can be alone. For the longest time I attributed this just to the fact that she has very high standards that she holds both of us to. Which is a GREAT thing! But that calculator helped me to realize that her role is much more active. See, Whitney doesn’t just expect me to succeed – she helps me to succeed.

Thanks so much, Sweetheart. I love you, Whit!

I blew it. It’s been five days since I put anything up here. And I’m without excuse…sigh…

Anywhoozzle.

Whit and I had it out about a month ago. We never really fight. Neither of us has intentionally said something hurtful to the other. We never yell. But we were both pretty (read – really freaking) mad at one another. It seems, as is usually the case, each of us had expectations of the other that we never told them about. It was hard and it sucked (short-term, anyhow) to go through that. It made me sad and angry and frustrated and hopeless. And then like a Grade-A D-Bag when I realized that I had spent over an hour lecturing her like I’m her freaking mom. Not cool.

In tears as I type this, I’m so ashamed of how I handle things sometimes. At the time, I always feel ‘in the right’ or justified. I try, I really do, to wear Whitney’s shoes. I sincerely want to know exactly how she feels and where she’s coming from. Because I want to fix it so that she doesn’t ever have to feel bad ever again.

But where I fail sometimes is that I think that just because I don’t yell, that I’m not mean. It’s true, I don’t yell — and I don’t say anything intentionally meant to be mean spirited or hurt Whitney. I’m sure, though, that I could work on my tone. Because when I look back, I hate feeling like I lectured my sweetheart. She’s not my child! She’s not my servant or employee! She’s my teammate. My heart. 

And what’s more, even after I blow it — Whit still takes my feelings to heart. Even though I could’ve been better about telling her about my feelings, she really stepped up to the plate. The last month or so has been my happiest in a long time. I’m humbled by Whit’s willingness to put me first.

I don’t deserve her.

She deserves so much better than me.

But I’ll spend my whole life becoming the man Whit deserves.

We had a quick weekend. And it was bad. But…good…

That is – I’m happy for any time we get together. I’ve got school and now on-call work. And this weekend I was asked to play guitar at church. So goodbye Saturday. And she had to stay at school until Friday night. So instead of our usual Thursday evening through Monday morning weekend, we had Sunday. 

Even though it was only one day, I am sure glad for it! This weekend, though, we’ll be on our usual schedule, save any work I get called to do. That could be a big fat problem…but I hope it’s not. I’d hate to have another pseudo-weekend.

. . .  sigh  . . .