Last summer, I was on the verge of letting myself become a part of a relationship that would have been a huge mistake. Not because he's a terrible guy or anything, but he's just...so clearly not my other half that I was literally being a fool. It's not an experience I enjoy talking about too much, because it was really so silly, but...hey, we live.
Anyway, I bring this guy up because in the midst of our many conversations, he told me very often that I was a "family person." And then he'd chuckle in that odd chuckle he has, because he liked me a lot.
Well, until recently, I never really saw myself as a family person. I've never hated my family, I've always loved them (I'm talking about my parents. I love the rest of my family too, but you know what I mean.) I just never saw myself being like some people who were REALLY family people. Like, talked about them all the time, wanted to leave Bible college because they missed them so much, etc. I was never one to get homesick when I went away for long periods of time, that kind of thing.
Until this past year. I've been thinking about it a lot, actually. I think I really am a family person. I mean, maybe I'm just more mature, but not very long ago, I probably wouldn't choose going for a drive with my parents. Nothing personal, seriously, just...residual high school "parents are weird," or something. I dunno. Didn't like shopping for fun with my mom, blah blah. It makes me sound horrible, but I promise it's not like that.
However. Within the past year, especially the past several months, I have come to really love spending time with my parents. My mom and I have gone to the movies together twice in the past 4 months - it was so much fun! I'll sit with my dad in bed and watch Wimp videos with him on his phone. It's just fun. I enjoy grocery shopping with my mom, and doing errands with my dad. I enjoy clothes shopping with my mother! I used to NOT like that at all. Maybe because of my own insecurities, and also because I wanted to wear "cool" clothes and I didn't like her style choices at all, and I was afraid to say I didn't like things she would point out.
Now, my style tastes have matured and slowly but surely I'm coming to love all the things she wished I would wear when I was 14. I just wasn't ready. And I'm not afraid to tell her that I don't like things. For example, old lady floral prints. Yeah, they're pretty, and some girls my age and pull them off, but I am just not there, yet. Give me a few more years.
Does this make sense? Like, when I go away now, I actually miss my parents. I look forward to coming home and hanging out with them.
The point of this isn't really much. It's just what I've been thinking about, and I like it.
In other news, this day has been non-stop. We made a bunch of gluten-free stuff last night. I enjoyed most of it with no issue, my parents have mixed feelings.
I've also been thinking about hate. There are some people that I say I hate, and I think that I sincerely mean it, but I realized yesterday that it's not true. I just really, really, really, really dislike those people and don't care if I ever see or talk to them again. Literally. However, I have seen people actually hate, and it's shockingly pitiful. It takes a LOT of work to sincerely hate people. I'm way too lazy for that. I'm willing to call a true once in a while, but some people are hardcore, legit haters. It's impressive, as well as weird, as well as just too bad for them.
Hmm, my mind. Maybe this is why I don't get chatty right away with people. Because my head thinks about things that are not conducive to normal conversation. I mean, I'm talking about being impressed by people's capacity to hate and to stick with it for so long.
I'm weird. That's okay. Someone will love me for it, someday.