Tears in Tennessee

I was crying. Again. 

Winding through the mountains of Tennessee Tuesday afternoon, destination the airport in Nashville, I sobbed into Kleenex after Kleenex after Kleenex. 

Another long weekend with Seth. Come and gone.

Seth, as usual, held his composure, determined to put up a strong front for the both of us. He sat in silence, driving, the occasional statement of comfort flowing from his lips, a genuine look of concern on his face, as he rubbed my back and listened to the sounds of my ugly cry.

It's been a long time since I've blogged. A long few weeks that I sat in my apartment, absorbed in how much I missed my boyfriend. In my defense it was pretty darn hot and I couldn't do much else in my un-air conditioned apartment except for sit in my underwear (no, I'm not ashamed to admit it) and think. Think about where I've been, where I am, and where I'm going. 

It was about last year at this time that I finally let go of this [insert expletive here] guy I was hung up on and finally decided to turn my love life over to God. It wasn't very easy considering I wasn't seeing Jesus chatting it up with the hot dog guy on Water street at 2 a.m. on the weekends or shopping for lettuce at Pick n' Save, but I did it. At 22 I gave it up, telling the Big Man, "Here you go. If you want me to find someone I will with your help. And if you want me to be a nun that's fine too. But I'm not getting rid of my subscription to Vogue that easy." 

My mom prayed without fail for my miracle. I lit vigil candle after vigil candle. Not necessarily that I would find him the second I walked out of church, but that wherever he was, he was alive and well, happy and content, and that God was present in his life. 

And of course, I prayed that he was gradually making his way into my life. Whether at the pace of a turtle or a Harley, it didn't matter. Well. Maybe it did matter when I had PMS. But for the most part Ms. Amy "I want it right now!" Guckeen attempted to practice patience.

Seven months ago yesterday, he appeared. Contrary to what I may have been expecting, he didn't radiate some sort of cosmic glow. Didn't come wrapped in a bow with a gift tag, "To: Amy. From: God." But all the same, there was my miracle.

And with that, summer almost gone, I am concluding my temper tantrum about Seth not being right here, right now. All that matter is he's here *points at my heart*, where it really matters. Let the blogging begin once again!

(And let the real soap opera that is my life begin once again!)