Don't Be Alarmed If I Fall Head Over Feet.

I'm going to take a break from being my usual cynical, bitchy self and write something kind about someone else. That someone else being my boyfriend. Onward!

For those that have known me in the past year, I am someone people know as something of a 'wild child,' a girl who goes through guys like water, introducing each and then throwing them away. In the past, that was who I was. I had no desire to be in a relationship because I had been in one that had hurt me so deeply, I didn't think I had the heart to begin another. I thought it would be easy to be single, to attack anything with a penis within a 5 mile radius, and then dismiss then as quickly as they came. In retrospect, it wasn't. For over a year, I possessed a terribly large, gnawing, gut-wrenching feeling, one which indicated that I just wanted to be held. I didn't necessarily want a boyfriend. But, I didn't want to be a toy either, which was inevitably what I became. I didn't like this role, but it was one I was pushed into against my wishes and forced to remain in until I could gather the strength to say 'no.'

I have never been a slut, or anything of that nature. I say that because I never enjoyed what I did. I hooked up with, fooled around with, and had sex with more people than I should have, and I can honestly say I never enjoyed or wanted a single one of those experiences. What I wanted, however, was the validation. I didn't even want it, really. I needed it. Given my illness, and how ill I actually was, I thought the validation would save me, or at least fill the void. It didn't. And, I just became progressively sicker and less significant to the boys I believed would love me if I submitted my body.

Now that I'm well, and in a much different mindset, I've come to realize that no sexual act will bring me the gratification or the validation I wanted so desperately before. I've acknowledged, finally, that those things had to come from within. And, when I finally did, I accepted that it wasn't a boyfriend that I wanted. What I wanted, amidst my illness, was simply for someone to tell me it was going to be okay. I wanted to be coddled, because I couldn't disillusion myself. I wanted an escape. When I leaped into recovery, I filled the void myself, with food, with self-love, and with acceptance. I discovered that I was enough. I didn't need anyone to validate me or verify my existence. I was a real live human being. And, I had earned that right.

My boyfriend fell into my lap at a time that I least expected. He was one of my closest friends and though I had had a bit of a crush on him earlier in the year, I never put much thought into it given the circumstance. How it happened and why it happened are still two very strange things to process, but that it happened is what matters to me, and what matters even more is that I couldn't be happier.

Though I'm resolved in the fact that I can validate myself, I still have my days where I'm not happy with who I am or where I've been. He squelches those doubts. He admires my hard work and respects my achievements, and most importantly, he's proud of my recovery, and is not at all disappointed in the fact that I fell in the first place. He appreciates my intelligence, my humor, my body, to name a few, and never, ever makes me angry or upset. He is, to me, perfect, if such a thing could exist. What I wanted was for someone to accept me for who I was, to support me in whatever it was and is I choose/chose to do, and to like me even so. What I wanted was what I found, and though I initially had my doubts, I can't believe my luck.

I had my doubts because I was afraid. Relationships aren't exactly my strong point. Understatement of the year, honestly. I believed that this relationship would fail just as my others had, and instead of actually asserting that belief, I tried to end it before it had even begun. I'm so glad he talked me out of that, because I can't think of anything I'd have regretted more.

I think back on all the people I've cared for and have been involved with romantically, or semi-romantically. I think about all the things I loved about these people and all the things that drew me to them to begin with. My boyfriend possesses everything that all of these people had, with one major difference - he's better. He is a peppering of everything I've ever loved about past interests molded into one little perfect person that I couldn't adore more if I tried. Needless to say, I'm a lucky girl.

I am done being sappy now. I apologize. I shall resume my usual bitchy disposition tomorrow upon waking. Thank you.