Fri, 19 Sep 2014 01:56:40 +0000

Kristen told me to write about the six years since I've loved her. (And that she would be "mad" if I didn't.) Of course, I couldn't articulate to myself six years ago that I loved her, nor could I even really understand what love entails. It was perhaps the most influential decisions in my life — a decision that literally influenced every single decision since. There was a point at which I wondered if it was foolish to make decision based on a girl, and then a point at which I wondered if I would resent her for the decisions I made for her — but, now, it's the point at which any other decision would have been foolish, and it's hard to imagine a life where decisions are made without thought of her.

I still don't understand the mechanism in the human brain that allows a man to be so smitten with a girl after six years that he runs home every day, looking forward to the simple act of walking in the door. But if I've learned anything, it is that I don't understand anything about the region of the human mind that is labels "love." The core idea is so simple, yet the fallout from that simple impulse is complicated and nuances and merciless. It forces you to reshape dreams, rethink life and move to Connecticut, causing great heartache and confusion that would never arise is life were without such a complicated force. Yet through it all, and perhaps because of my inability to understand this, I have had one simple rule, and that to put love first. I've justified it through logical means, but of course these decision have unforeseen consequences, some of them negative. Yet worrying about those things is like walking through Moses' split Red Sea and worrying about gnats. The waters have split and the way is paved to the Promised Land, yet I'm concerned about mosquito bites.

I have lately had a lot of confusing and frustrating emotions that sway my mood like a kite in a tornado. But what always exists — still, steady, splendid and for six years — is she and I, like a rainbow in even the fiercest of storms.