#Sundaylove

I love my Dylan. He's my favorite. Ever.
We've known each other for seven years now, we met and dated in high school and broke up not because we couldn't stand each other, but because he was older than me and was just going to be leaving to college. I thought that would mean the end of us and I wasn't ok with the idea of him just leaving me behind. He didn't believe me that once people graduate high school they never see each other again. They never talk to each other again. I guess this time he was right. (And I was... less right...) (: So we got back together about two years ago, neither of us could really move on. I couldn't be with anyone else without constantly thinking about dylan, nobody could hold me without me missing him. Dylan says other women are just the wrong kind of crazy, that I'm the only kind of crazy he wants. Anyway we're together and it's the best. He's the best. So here I am gushing about him.

I remember in high school he would hold me before class. I would just be in his arms and we would cuddle before the bell rang. Sometimes I would talk to other people while he held me, sometimes he would talk to other people while I lay in his arms, relaxed as I could ever be.
I remember when I first saw him again after he graduated, how he hugged me like I was the most precious thing he had ever lost and found again.
I remember him trying to convince me to be his girl again, how wordless and gentle and patient he was. I remember how he wouldn't dare try to kiss me until I kissed him first.
I remember how many times he offered to drop everything and be next to me whenever I started to freak out about anything. (I may or may not have some kind of an anxiety problem...)
I remember how every time I told him my fears he would negate and calm them, even if he himself was incredibly worried about the same thing.
I remember our first semester of long distance relationship. I remember feeling like I needed to see him right now and if I coudn't I would implode. We got to the end of the semester and saw each other without implosion by the way.

I love how strong he is, how he hushes all my fears and gives me hopes and validation that my dreams can happen, how he holds on and endures all his challenges so gracefully even when those around him only see his challenges and his shortcomings. I love his optomism, and I love the humor we share. I love the stupid jokes and the hilarious responses he comes up with to the ridiculous things I say. I love his loyalty, how he never gives up and I love the bond we share. I love Dylan.
Dylan rant over.

Church rant.
I love church. I love my church. I love the prophet and all the apostles that give me genuis advice. (Like telling my children, or in this case my followers, what my significant other means to me. Honestly I started crying halfway through that because of how strongly I felt my own emotions for Dylan. That excercise strengthened my relationship with him and he doesnt even know it yet.)
I love what my church does for me, to me really. Going to church lifts me up- not just when I'm down but lifts me higher when I'm already up. Reading the scriptures, hearing the prophets and feeling the spirit makes me feel calm, loved and reassured. These things help me not only to cope with my life and in whatever challenges I might be going through, but also gives me strength, advice and support when I am handling things just fine, which motivates me to go farther, to achieve more and to be a better person. I guess what I'm really trying to say- and all that really matters-my church makes me feel great.

~Birdy