Laughter Of Love

I needed this reminder today.
G.W. is a fellow Baha'i, and one of my indirect mentors. I have been reading his blog for quite some time now, and was, well, stoked to realize he'd been reading mine as well, after the first time he linked to/quoted my blog. That is uplifting to say the least.
Once again, he has referenced my writing in his blog, and it made me smile. It is interesting to see what others would choose to highlight of my writing, and I laugh as I read my own words. I forget just how, er, unique I am sometimes. I had a Korean-American friend of mine tell me, quite pointedly, last night that he's never met someone as honest as I am. It was a very positive comment, though it took me by surprise. I forget, too often perhaps, that honesty shocks people. It is part of who I am and, clearly, a part that some people find attractive.
Identity is something I don't so much struggle with, not nearly the way others do, but it is something I struggle to be aware of. I had my wishy-washy teenage years, of course, but, as an adult, and even more so since I've began to settle into the Faith, I am far more comfortable without a label, just enjoying being who I already am.
That's not to say it's all smooth sailing, of course.
I am only human, and, while probably more aware of my quirks than many, I sure do struggle with them. Relationships are at the absolute top of that list. Even as I see more and more what I need and want in a relationship for it to last, I struggle with my own wants and questions. I am preparing to leave South Korea for the states. Korea is a place, in Army culture, where folks get in a lot of trouble because we feel like this isn't home, we're let off the chain to party and have fun. There are some who take it to extremes, and that never does anyone any good. As for myself, however, I have actually settled down and come into my own here. This place hasn't taken me away from home so much as become my home. I think it's impossible to not truly grow in a place and not feel that it is somehow a home to you.
So much of me wants to party and let loose these last few weeks, but celebrating or anything of the sort involves people. What happens when Charli is around people? She gets emotionally attached.
It's not so much a matter of not knowing what type of person I want in my life at this point. I know, down to an almost startling detail, what kind of person I want in my life for keeps. I want a Baha'i. I want someone who is not skinny, someone who I do not feel large or awkward next to, as I am not petite at five ft nine and a perfectly healthy and athletic 170lbs. I want someone who comes across as almost too tough to people, but can open up to someone they trust. Race is not an issue, so long as they understand what it's like to be a minority and don't fall into the "colorblind" fallacy. (Race still exists, and pretending racism doesn't is nothing short of negligent.) I know just what I want- but I'm all too aware that I won't be finding that in the next 2 weeks. It doesn't take much for me to get attached, though, as people are my favorite past time.
I love people. People as a whole, I mean- there are some folks who definitely make the "Love Thy Neighbor" commandment way harder than it needs to be. (I suspect it has more to do with them not loving themselves than how they feel about other people, but that's another blog.) I really love hearing people's stories and learning what it is that is their truth in life. Everyone has different experiences, but we all have more in common than different. I have yet to meet a person I couldn't relate to on some level, so long as they were open and honest. Liking them is another matter, but sometimes these things take time and effort.
I truly believe people are the best investment you can make. Unlike a bank, you can never completely withdraw yourself from someone once you have put part of yourself and your time into a person. There are plenty of things that can influence the return you get on that investment, but the more positivity you put in, the more you will get out overall. There will always be those that are higher-risk investments than others but, just like Wall Street, these are usually the ones that have the highest return on your investment, too.
My best friend, Cricket, is a woman I have yet to meet face to face. I won't ever forget how we met. His name was Mike, and he is from West Monroe, Louisiana, though I couldn't tell you where he's living now. We had both been led on and betrayed by this man, in different but not dissimilar ways. I didn't know who she was, but she was a follower of the blog I used to write on Myspace- the earliest days of my internet writing addiction. I got an email one day from a woman asking about the picture of the beautiful little house in Louisiana that I had posted. It was Mike's place, and she knew it as well as I did, if not better. She had been following my blog, it turned out, because when she stumbled across it, she realized this friend of her boyfriend had been through much of what she had. I discussed openly then, as I do now, the effects that the sexual assaults I have experienced have had on me, and how I deal with them, or not. It was a very emotional time for me to begin with. My divorce was in the works, and the second rape had occurred less than a year prior. We started talking- quite guardedly at first- and, after she tried to give Mike just one more chance, well, she realized that some leopards have no interest in zebra stripes, and she moved on. Our friendship flourished when I left for basic training. She wrote me more often in those six months than anybody besides my Dad. She sent a care package or two, and made my time there much easier. I forget, sometimes, that this woman was once my "competition" for a boy I wanted for my own. She is nearly 20 years my senior, another thing I forget, as she has become both my best friend and my sister in a way I can't begin to rationally explain. Opening up to "my competition" was one of the riskiest investments I've made in my life, and I just don't know where I'd be without her now. Late night phone calls, tears, facebook posts, plotting against the men in our lives together, and ranting about them to one another... If ever the nightmares become too much, she's the only person I want to talk to. She understands. I love her for it, and know that my risky investment has paid of tenfold.