Oh, Louisiana.

Oh, Louisiana. You took him away on a wonderful journey. I pray that one day he will return and still remember my stoic face. That's the last thing he saw as he waltzed out of my front door to relocate to a large city. 

He was not my "first love". As a matter of fact, while we were dating, I never once told him that I loved him. I broke up with him. It was my fault. Completely. He told me numerous times that he loved me, but I was too scared to admit to myself that I could ever love a man that prefers going barefoot and likes his steak rare enough to feel a heartbeat. I told myself that he was not what I was looking for in a husband. I mean, come on, he is basically a caveman that has been transported to the year 2012. But, he is not JUST a caveman. He is a Protector. A Jesus-Fearer. A Leader. A Gladiator. A Ripper. A Champion. He is a lover and a fighter. He likes country music and rap. He likes seeing my face without make-up. He gets along well with my family. 

What if I let him walk out of my life forever? He is busy in Louisiana doing his own thing. We casually chat every now and again and he describes the level of stress and adversity that he is currently facing. I can not tell him how I feel. What if it is all just my mind playing tricks on me? What if I miss him only because I know I can not have him? He knows all of my troubles, secrets, concerns, and cares. He is the only one that will call if he suspects I am having a bad day. If I say that I am fine, he always asks more questions to get down to the dirty, grimy truth. He is the only one that seems to feel what I feel. But is he feeling this? One will never know. "If you love someone, set them free", they say. I just want him back, but that is not an option. "Liking" his Facebook status is an option. Sending a happy birthday wish is an option. Telling him how bad I miss him is no option of mine. 

Do not let something good walk out of your life without a fight. In todays society, we do not accept failure in anything other than relationships. We slave for hours in the gym to stay in shape. We do not want to accept failure with our bodies. We compromise sleep for our jobs because we strive to be the best in our workplace and, one day, get promoted. We do not want to accept failure in the workforce. We do not see eye to eye with our significant other and we just quit. We accept failure. Divorce rates are sky-high and I allowed an ex-boyfriend to drive to Louisiana. Fight for the things you love. You will never regret it. 

Keep Ripping,

Blythe Anderson