(A guest post by Julianna Potter for this twenty-third day of Lent)
Home is finding something to stick with.
I am not what you would
call a decisive person. This is not due to either pickiness or apathy,
but rather, I think, to the fact that I like almost everything and
everyone...for a while. Every topic, major, career, city - they all
offer something interesting, but over and over I've found myself grow
antsy halfway into any endeavor, waiting for the next to begin.
is the first exception to that. At the beginning of our relationship,
in the midst of a whirlwind of falling completely into another person, I
wondered when that feeling would come back, when I would feel the need
to pack my bags. Miraculously, that feeling has never come, and the
worry that it ever will has gone away, too. I wonder if part of that is
that Avery is not the person I saw myself with. I always imagined I
would be with someone stoic and shy, someone who liked discussing
philosophy and made me take up environmentally friendly hobbies.
Instead, I found someone who, for all his depth of soul, is inherently
silly. And it's perfect. His charisma, his energy, his child-like
excitement for life - they're all things I couldn't have known I would
want so much.
Finding someone to become your home, someone with
whom routine becomes something to look forward to, someone who makes you
love and cling to the word "constant" - it's magical. But it's also
terrifying. It is to find what you have always been missing and to have
no real guarantee that it will always last. It is to worry that,
although you feel you could never want anything more than this person
and this moment and this feeling, you have no control over whether that
person will always want the same.
So to find home, to find
something worth sticking with, is to give up control. It's to put all
of yourself into something and hope. To cling to hope.
Julianna is a friend of Bethany's, and thus a fortunate woman.