Fall Into Me

There's a country song that I really, really love. It's called "Fall Into Me", and Sugarland sings it. It's so soft, and so poetic, and gentle, and I just really love everything about it. There are other songs with that title, but this one...this one is my favorite.


Steven is so often my safety, my security, such a strength in my life. I have nightmares. Horrible night terrors that leave me sobbing and panting to catch my breath, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and trembling. Inevitably, when my dreams get the worst of me, when I can't drag myself awake, out of the depths of my own subconscious, there's his voice, and his hands, and his chest and shoulder, pulling me out. His arms that wrap around me, strong and sure, and so, so safe and very present.

He is so often my sanity. Working as a CNA is definitely a passion of mine. It's not my forever goal, but, for right this minute, I love the ability to care and give to people sick and miserable. But, it is draining. And, when I come home exhausted, frustrated, and upset--It's Steven. Forcing me to open up, to let him hear all the things that scare me, infuriate me, break my heart, or make me laugh. It's him, goading me into a better state of mind and tucking me into bed with our boxer before he goes off to work.


He's patience. When I just HAVE to call him, just to hear his voice--it's always there at the end of the line. Whether I call at 1 pm or 3 am, I'm confident he'll answer and respond to whatever nonsense reason I've come up with to cover the fact that I'm actually that needy. And then, it's "I love you, baby. Going back to sleep--I'll see you when you come home. Can't wait."

Our personalities are so opposite--I'm usually bouncing off the walls, distracted, hurrying, excited, spazzing, happy, hungry--in full gear until I fall into bed. He's chill. Nothing really flusters him, and it takes more than a poke with a sharp stick to make him angry. I panic, he's calm.

But, over the course of time, I've come to realize I want to be that strength(albeit in a different way) for him. I love to rub his back when he gets home, because I know it bothers him. I want to hear about his day--the people he loves at work, and the others that he...well, he doesn't love them. :) I want to be able to snug him when he's upset, to tease him into laughing. Corny though it may be, I want to be that song for him. I'm not usually a lyric poster---but, geez, this song:

 

 

When the weight of the world bears down so strong,

You leave footprints on the street

And there's too many miles to face

Without a few more hours sleep--

When the storm clouds overhead

Won't shed any rain to quench your thirst---

 

I want to be the one you reach for first.

 

When your faith is stretched so thin

That you can see straight through your soul--

And you can't find a nickel to buy a smile

Because your pockets all have holes--

You wanna shut the door and hide before

The day can get much worse.

 

I want to be the one you reach for first.

 

Fall into me--

My arms are open wide

And you don't have to say a word.

Cuz I already see

That it's hard, and you're scared,

And you're tired and it hurts,

And I wanna be the one you reach for first.

 

 

I wanna be the bottle

You been drinking with your eyes

Or the road you run away on,

You've been running all your life.

The third row pew that you last knew

As a child in church--

 

I wanna be the one you reach for first.

Fall into me.

My arms are open wide,

And you don't have to say a word

Cuz I already see

That it's hard, and you're scared,

And you're tired and it hurts,

And I wanna be the one you reach for first.

 

Before you turn the key

Before you fall asleep,

Before you drift away to fight

Those demons waiting for you in your dreams...

Before you, arms are stretched wide open,

Before you're reaching to the sky,

Before you're searching for direction

For all the answers to your whys.

 

Fall into me,

Oh, my arms are stretched wide open

Because I already see,

That it's hard, and you're scared,

And you're tired, and I know it hurts.

That it's hard, and you're scared, and you're tired, and it hurts...

And I wanna be, the one you reach for first.

 

 

 

Admittedly, I think prayer is something that should come very first, but my heart for Steven is this. That when he needs someone, it's me. That when he's angry and just needs to vent, that it's me. When he's sad, and his heart is breaking, it's me. That, in my crazy, all over the place way--I can be his strength, like he's mine. He loves me, beyond all reason. Through all my faults, in all my hard times, through accusations and fear and bad dreams, he loves me. And, I want to constantly be knowing him better, to find better ways to help him, better ways to love him. And, this song just really, really resonated with me. Love it.

 

Corny?

 

Probably.

 

Cheesy?

 

Probably.

 

Honest?

 

Undoubtedly. 



Blown Away

Can I just say, sometimes, my husband blows me away.

My real dad...he's a character. Honestly. Throughout my life, he's been a lot of things. A druggie. A hillbilly. An alcoholic. Crazy as all hell(really, certified and everything--he's quite proud of it). He's also been my constant encourager. He loves with a heart of gold as big as the whole of the USA. He always has something to say, usually couched in language more colorful than any rainbow.

When I thought I couldn't do it, he was there, telling me that he and my mom were too smart to have raised a dumb kid, and for me to get out there a try. After all, "What's the worst that could happen? You f*** up? Big deal, everyone's done it."

When I thought Steven and I were never going to make it, he listened to me rage and cry and watched me throw things and let me shoot far more than I should have. Then, when my hurt and fury was spent, he informed me that love wasn't something that was "fallen into"...it was something both parties had to work for and towards, and was a struggle til the day we died. He assured me that's why he had Yorkies and not a woman, but if I was quite finished, I should probably head home and work on loving the man I was with.

When I was dead broke, he told me that, if he had money, he'd give it to me-- but, as it was, I could join the club, and welcome real life through my door, and helped me laugh through the stress.

I was an oops baby, for sure. My mom and dad were already divorced; but, every time he talks to me,(at least once a day), my dad has told me at some point that "You were wanted. You were hoped for, and waited for. You may be a lot of things. But, one thing you are, always--is loved."

He tells me that I'm a blend of him and my mother, and married to Steven--and that makes me some kind of "unholy trinity"; he's one you just have to meet--and you can't help but laugh every time you're with him.

Now, my dad never graduated high school. In a lot of ways, his education level doesn't pass second grade. He's not stupid. He's not. He just didn't finish. Didn't figure he'd ever need to, I reckon. Now, though, he's desperate for a job, and he can't get anything without his GED.

He tried telling us he couldn't do it.

That he didn't even "have a base of knowledge for ya'll to work with."

And, ya know--he's on his way over here, anyway.

For Steven to sit down and work with him, work with him til he gets it. Because my Dad needs to feel like he's done something. He needs to feel good about himself again, and he wants this.

And, I can't think of enough ways to thank my husband, who loves my Dad, and myself, beyond all reason.

You guys were right--why borrow trouble? He's good to me. I love him. He loves me. And, you guys--you all are great. A constant source of encouragement and advice. Thank you all, so, so much.