Every now and then, my irrational side takes over. The part of my brain that likes to dwell on the past, things that don't matter, and things that won't change. The part of my brain that is the fascist leader of all my self-esteem issues, all the negative things I think about myself; the part of my brain that never ceases it's desire to convince me that I do not deserve to be happy.
Lately, I've been good at getting that part of my brain to SHUT THE GODDAMN HELL UP. I don't work hard to ensure I'm miserable in Milwaukee, I enjoy the time I have to myself while on the bus, I enjoy taking walks down town and to the grocery store when it's above freezing outside; I let myself have friends that I cannot wait to live with next year.

But every now and then, irrational brain teams up with crazygirlbrain and wage ware on rational and logical brain.

About a month ago, they made a break in the defenses. And to be quite honest, I kind of lost it for a while there. I actually became convinced that my boyfriend (you know, the one who has stuck by me and loved me for the past four years, three of those four years in a long-distance relationship.) was only with me because he wanted to spend the rest of his life riding around on the coat tails of my success and ambition. I was convinced that he didn't care enough about me to try and do anything with his life.
This is not to say that I didn't think he loved me. I knew he did. But when he would say, "I don't need anything else to be happy but you." My brain interpreted that as, "I don't have to try for anything better, because you are good enough to keep me satisfied." I interpreted that to mean he didn't feel the need to better himself because he already had what he wanted. I interpreted that as he wasn't going to better himself because he was going to marry the doctor and I would just go ahead and provide for everything.
And this "realization" infuriated me. To the point where I was prepared to break up with the man and throw away everything that we had done over the past four years and erase all the plans we had made. How dare he not try to better himself while I am out here in fucking Milwaukee, WISCONSIN becoming a mother fucking DOCTOR so I can ensure that we have a better life and we have all we want. How dare he not try to figure out what he loves to do and pursue it.
How dare he.

It was with Rational and Logical Brain's dying breath that it pleaded, "Talk to him first."

So I went home for Spring Break, got lost in the butterflies he still causes in my stomach, distracted by the way he makes my knees buckle when we kiss. And I would think to myself, "I can't lose this. I love him so much. But maybe that's not enough."
So, very unfairly, I blindsided the poor man with all sorts of accusations and ill-formed sentences that kind of trickled off into the Land of I Don't Know How To Put This Into Words Without Yelling.
Naturally, he pouted for a while, but we both got over it and things were better, but not great, they were barely good.

Then, the night before I came back to Milwaukee, he brought it up. And he explained everything.
He explained why it had taken so long for him to come up with a response, and how he knows how his family fights (using guilt and finding the most hurtful thing to say in order to win the argument) and how he knows I was not brought up in a family that fought and how he knows I can't emotionally handle that kind of conversation/argument when he can.
He explained how much my accusations hurt him because of how out of the blue they were.
He explained what he meant about a lot of things.

Because his mind and my mind are very different. They work in different ways and they process in different ways and they see the world differently.
Our lives are very different. Having Marquette and Athletic Training and Physical Therapy and Residencies fall into place was how my life worked; and that's not how it went for him.
And when he's not looking for a major to start an education on, and not looking for a career change that will make him happier than Smiths, it's not because he doesn't want to, or because he doesn't want to put the effort in, or because he is content with not perfection.
It's because he knows that where he is right now is the best place for him to be for me.
He knows that where he is offers fantastic flexibility in his schedule, allowing him to take off a whole week when I come home and then go right back to working 40 hours a week.
It's the best job stability there is. He's guaranteed to move up in the company when he wants and at a time that would be most convenient for us.

So he's not staying there because it's the easiest thing to do, or he thinks he doesn't need to work for anything else. It's because he is willing to be unhappy with his job to ensure I get to go were I want to go, and do what I want to do, and become who I want to become. He's where he is because he believes that nothing short of Everything I Want, is good enough for me, and he believes it is his responsibility to make sure I can have it.

And that to me, is a better show of love than all of the flowers, teddy bears, or diamonds he could ever buy.