She leaves me notes...

Grace, my assistant, is true blue. Completely loyal. Devoted. And fun to be around. She left today for one week. A true romantic, she left me individual notes for each day with some kind of uplifting quote or joke. that's Grace --------------------------->

Grace knows my man is far away. She knows, despite my busy life, cheerful smiles and silliness, that I struggle with this long distance thing at times. So she leaves me notes. And she calls me on nights when I'm out to make sure I'm behaving. And she goes out on "dates" with me. She gives me hugs (I've read that women are more successful if they have meaningful physical contact 8 times per day. His arms ain't 300 miles long, so I ain't gettin' hugged that often.).

And this is something that I've learned about romantic relationships throughout these months: when it's real, your peeps rally. They gather around that fire. They fuel you. They shelter you. They enjoy your warmth. They want to toast marshmallows on you... (?!)

I never doubt his love, but sometimes I doubt my patience. And so when reservations and doubt rear up on their hind legs and bite my "break up" alarm, my peeps disengage it. They take a fractured me and seal me up with loving wax. And, of course, he seals their deal with his big time smiles and right words.

Fear and Honesty in Oshvegas

Alright. I'll admit I have fears. I'm not going to identify them, but I do have them. I don't care about the individual fears. I care about why we fear in the first place.

Why? Because my fuggin fears stifle me and you (I'm guessing). I hold my breath because of them. I talk around them, over them, even right through them. I develop bad habits because of them. I've lied. They prevent me from "breaking on through." So I'm confronting them as they come around, and I've knocked out quite a few with solid sucker punches of self worth and love of life.

Here's what I've discovered by karate-chopping fear:

1) Lies and fiction are two different beasts. I thought I was alright with lies, to an extent. As a writer, I think I'm a naturally good deceiver. I will embellish a story to make it more interesting, but I won't make shit up about myself, or withhold information that would be pertinent to a decision being made. That's because fiction is fiction and lies are lies. It's important to know the difference. Okay, so I've pretty much come to the conclusion that embellishing for the sake of a story is alright. It's a story. It's fiction.

2) I am not fiction. I am real. I'd say I'm more Marie than I've ever been. I even admitted to a friend that I was drinking water at the bar (instead of fibbing and saying it was Limon and water). I'd like to be comfortable in my own skin. I can be. I can be totally Marie. Here's why:

3) I wasn't born with an identity. I wasn't born with the essence that makes me Marie. I've determined that identity through a variety of decisions. My soul was constructed in faith by me. My identity is mine. So there's no need to look to the sky and ask "why?" because there is no why. There simply is. I can simply be. I am I, fully connected to the rest of the world by the universal gift we've been given. We are all artists.

4) We've created our "selfs." We created our selfs in truth, but became embarrassed by what we created. We started to lie, deceive, run from that which we created because we didn't believe in the worth of our own creation. Therefore, our selfs became worthless to ourselves, and we started valuing others' self creations more than our own. That's bullshit.

5) My creation wasn't worthless. I used simple tools like faith in beauty and love while I created myself. I've decided to peel away the fears and deceptions that are cloaking my creation. I'm capable of being awesome.

6) I'm still working on this project. I'm a masterpiece in progress, bitches. If there are parts that I simply don't like anymore because I've matured as a creator, I can junk them because I am the master of this creation, and my faith will guide the process.