Trenta Giorni di Verità - Giorno 3

Something You Have to Forgive Yourself For

Is this like confession, where anything I write down is between me and my blog?

Regardless, this is one of those things that is, in all likelihood, deeply personal and not customarily shared in a public setting like this. But I digress.

I'm of the mind that I've led a decent life and have avoided causing great offense to anyone. I did have to apologize for making fun of someone while in Russia, though she readily forgave me to my lasting gratitude. If you ask me if I've ever really hurt anyone, however, one thing comes immediately to mind.

Flash back to August 2006. I find out a girl from church is interested in me. Immediately
flattered and interested in this interest, I set about arranging for us to share a canoe on an upcoming float trip. We talk, get to know each other, have an overall good time and finish the day with our first date- minigolf and ice cream.

Our canoe trip ended up much better than this one.

Flash forward to December 2006. We'd been dating steadily and having a great time. I drive with her to her relatives' abodes in Kentucky. On the way, I get nervous. "Is this my destiny" nervous. We work through it, all is well.

Now on to April 2007. I give the lovely lady a ring in a box hidden amongst a picnic basket of breakfast. She says yes, we kiss, we go to church and show our new engagement off. Wedding
plans commence.

Read on for the explanation

May 2007. I get nervous again. Frozen solid feet nervous. So nervous I can't eat or sleep. Is this right? Is she the one? What if I'm doing the wrong thing? What if what if what if what if what if? A marathon day at the temple yields no answers either way, and that night she gives me the ring back. She doesn't want it unless I'm sure. Until I get to that surety of yes or no, we're doomed to
be in an odd relationship limbo.

He won't be smiling like that when he throws a back muscle.

That was the day before my birthday. Needless to say the next day was my worst birthday ever. It was made better by fantastic family members, but it still sucked.

She goes on a mini-vacation to visit her sister, needing some time away to think. I
go on a solo campout, also needing some time to think. Worst time in our lives ever (according to me). I come back...with no definitive answer. What the H is wrong with me?

Let's hop to June-ish 2007 (exact date/part of the month eludes me). She and I had continued to see each other, still together though with her still ring-less. Sunday morning again. I say "Screw it" (not literally) and give the ring to her again, saying it's going to be the right thing this time. We kiss, but don't show off as much at church.

August 3, 2007. Place: Nauvoo Temple sealing room. Having not felt any of the anxiety that plagued my big head before, we get married and sealed, and I get the overwhelming feeling this is the right thing. Life goes well for more than a year.

Is it possible to not be happy here?

November 2008. Anxiety comes back. Bad. So bad I have to talk to several professional helps about it. Many appointments and medications later, I'm good.

Here we are in August 2011. Life is good, we're happy, we're healthy, and no anxiety for a long time. I get an uncomfortable feeling in my middles talking about these painful past experiences, but it's nothing a good donut and nap won't cure.

Okay, to wrap it up: I am a smart guy, but in many ways mentally immature. I don't know what I want in life. I don't know how to read/understand my own feelings. And that's complicated enough when it's me and mine involved, but add another person to the mix, one with a very
vested interest: it gets sticky.

I caused this girl so much pain, so much uncertainty, so much heartache. I still feel horrible and awful about it. Anyone else would have kicked me to the curb (and rightfully so), but not her- she never gave up on me. I could see that in every tender note or card left where I would see it, in which she acknowledged the hardship of what we were going through, capping it with an assurance of her love and willingness to see it through by my side.

I'm no expert at self-forgiveness, so I guess the fact I still feel pain over it means I need to forgive myself for it. But what matters so much more is her forgiveness. I hope I have it, I hope I never lose it.

I love you, girl of my dreams. You know who you are.

But I hate my hair.


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