Sharing my America

Over the weekend, Stephen and I took a (very) mini-roadtrip to the Atlanta area. We spent time visiting old friends and exploring Midtown, Buford, and Kennesaw before driving back to Milledgeville last night.

One of my favorite things about Stephen is his ability to do nothing with me. Which is to say, adventures are fun but I'm so excited to marry someone who can sit on the porch with me and read. When he got to Georgia, I was a little bit nervous about having enough to do, but after spending four days out of town, we both admitted that we would rather spend this season of engagement enjoying simple things as opposed to trying to impress one another. And one of the many bright spots of a transcontinental family is that we'll have ample opportunity to travel and explore.

So we spent a few days in Atlanta.

Our first stop was an Avett Brother's concert with our friends Shelbie and Tim, followed by a Sunday lunch date with Heather and Kevin. We went to a great place in Little 5 Points called The Vortex. Monday was Stephen's 25th birthday, and we celebrated at a Braves game. Not only was it a gorgeous day complete with great seats and delicious food, but the Braves won! We also got to go to a couple other great restaurants that highlight Southern food, and my dear friend Samantha took us for some of the most delicious ice cream I've ever tasted.

Atlanta is different than Sydney, and even growing up in Georgia, I never spent a lot of time there. It was so fun to experience it after living in another big city, and even moreso with my future husband.

About Stephen

 

I gravitated towards Stephen the first day I met him. He was tall and soft-spoken and the kind of patient that comes with not really caring what people think. He told me my voice sounded like something you'd hear on television and I felt exotic and exquisite, even though I was a little bit lonely and a little bit homesick.

We became friends quickly. He would send me messages on Facebook to see how I was coping with Australia, with my job, with meeting new people. He introduced me to his friends, took me sightseeing, and showed me cafes that he knew I would frequent. He was kind without being fake, and his willingness to have no other agenda was a much needed breath of fresh air.

But somewhere in the middle of this genuine friendship, something else started to grow. We were both scared, coming from our own particular places of heartbreak and hurt, neither one of us willing to make the first move. And so I, subtle as always, invited him to come with me to a performance of Romeo & Juliet at the Sydney Opera House. He obliged and all of my friends said he liked me and I said I wouldn't get my hopes up, I didn't even know if I liked him, I wasn't sure what was happening.

We both knew it was the start of something.

And not even a month later, he dropped me home from our first date, telling me he wasn't seeing anyone else. Telling me he would rather I didn't see anyone else. And he gave me the sweetest first kiss.

Of course I would fall in love with Stephen. Stephen, who is a foot taller than I, who loves more quietly and delicately than I, who is far more patient and understanding than I. In all our differences, I have learned to be complemented and to complement, my friends telling me earnestly that I seem more myself than ever, that it's less like I've changed and more like I've settled into the person I was meant to be.

He proposed just after arriving in America, with a journal filled with letters and my favorite flowers and my best friend waiting to celebrate with us.

It's the start of the best something yet.

The slow and steady

This past month and a half has been one of waiting. It's been the rumble of thunderstorms, the quiet of novels, the basking in always having enough time for one more episode of Law and Order. It's been the working towards new career paths and the pursuit of healthy friendships and the reunion of family.

But it's also been the teen angst of a long-distance relationship, Stephen staying behind in Australia while I flew to Georgia. I have become more thankful than ever for technology and mail, but I am also certain that I will never again take for granted the luxury of being together. There have been days of overwhelming frustration, of impatience that will not cease. And there have been days of gratefulness, of eagerness for our upcoming reunion, of seeing how beneficial separation can be for the heart.

I've been ready to see Stephen since I glanced back from the departure gate in Australia, and while some might say my expectations are too high, I know they're just right.

Tonight, I will see him, face-to-face, at baggage claim. And the waiting will be over and the next adventure will begin.

What I know

I go back to America in 98 days.

98 days until I see my parents, until I eat Chick-fil-a, until I can drive the familiar roads around my town and my college. 98 days until I can sit in Blackbird Coffee and drink deeply, not just of my drink itself but the atmosphere. 98 days until I can hang my hammock by the river and spend the day drowning in a book and being interrupted every so often by the casual "Hello" of someone I know passing by.

98 days until I leave behind my for-now family. 98 days until I leave behind these kids that sometimes drive me crazy but whom I love dearly and deeply. 98 days until I'm done interning at International Justice Mission Australia. 98 days until I'm apart from my gentleman for awhile. 98 days until I leave in the hopes of returning, but only 98 more days of being here, certainly.

It is a strange thing, to be ready to be home but not ready to leave.

The more I learn the more aware I become of how many uncertainties are left. But what I know is this: Australia is home. Georgia is home. And it's kind of amazing that I have the privilege of loving both of these places, their sights and smells and sounds and people, equally. So in 98 days I'll say see you soon to Oz and hello for now to Georgia.

And wherever I am and whatever I do, I will be home, so long as my heart is lifted and my feet are planted.