A Letter to the Boy Who Caught Me

I’m a runner. It’s a pretty big deal for me to stick with someone for longer than a few months. We do the fun part – the question game, staying up all night talking, and going on fun dates where we are too guarded to show our real selves. Then, as it gets deeper, I bolt. I’m not a fan of the investment. That risk of getting hurt is just too great. And so, on April 24th, I wrote a post: #commitment. I talked about this boy who was probably my soul mate. How I broke up with him. And how I wasn’t ready to fall. And so I ran. 

Well guess what ladies and gentleman. This boy, sorry, man, ran cross country for 13 years. And I have only ever run one 5K and it was so not fun. Needless to stay, he caught up to me pretty quickly.

So it is now almost two months later and I now call this human, “boyfriend.” And man, does it feel weird to say.


To the boy who caught me:

It really bothered me. A lot. Those days when you would text me to see how I was doing, the asking me how my finals were going, the kindhearted thoughts you would send my way because we were trying to stay friends. It really bothered me that you would never do things to make me not love you. And as I’m sitting here, I believe you must have had this all planned out, didn’t you?

It really bothered me then when you would go out of your way to give me the space I wanted. You understood. You wanted me to be happy – and only happy. And if that meant you were sad, so be it. And it really bothered me how you were always one text or phone call away if I needed something. AND MAN. It bothered me when I realized that I just couldn’t do this whole life thing without you.

And now I’m bothered that we can’t just do this whole life thing together hip-to-hip every second of every day.

Because, you sir, caught me. I told you I would run from day one. You knew that I was not in this for a ring. I was not about to hold hands with you on the playground. And you must have been pretty confident in yourself that you could change that or you’re just too stubborn for your own good (which leads me to say, why are we always saying that I’m the stubborn one between the two of us?).

And now. It thrills me that I’m done running. Or at least, I’m trying to be done running. (You know those days where you have to reassure me that it’s all going to be OK.) And although I am not prepared for you to be down on one knee at any point in the near future, I have made a wedding board on my Pinterest account. And although there better not be any babies in my belly until I’m married, I have been thinking about names for those little monsters.

I never thought I would meet someone who could change my mind. Someone who loved me enough to deal with the crazy. Someone who could show me that I am worthy of love and that I can be happy when someone gives it. I love laughing with you while we sit with your parents on your back patio. I love that you help my parents lift stuff. I love that we can go on mini road trips with my siblings and that I can comment on your sister’s Facebook without being creepy.

But it bothers me. It bothers me that two months from today we are going to be 10 hours apart from each other so we can chase our dreams. It bothers me that hard weeks of work won’t be ended with Netflix binges in your arms. It bothers me that I’ll be sending you Bitmoji  messages of “I love you” instead of drawing it on your hand. It bothers me that rather than you listening to my snores at night, you’ll be listening to the buzz of your computer when we fall asleep Skyping. And it bothers me that I’m writing this all in a blog post instead of really telling you how much you mean to me. Because let’s face it, I am the stubborn one. And I’ll hold in my feelings until you coax them out of me like the baby deer that I am.

But no matter how much it all bothers me, I love you that much more.

Keep to Your Roots,

Southern Charm