I think that love is a powerful thing. I mean, look at the way it has shaped history. Love and hate seem to go in an eternal dance with one another; it is impossible to have one without the other. And there are so many different types of love; the love between friends, between mother and daughter, between siblings, and between spouses. I recently have been talking to someone I love very much about how much I want to be with him – hopefully for the rest of our lives. I’ve known him a year, and I love him. But it seems that I can’t meet him halfway in the ways that I want to. We live on opposite sides of the world, and I wish that I could meet him halfway on that, but considering that I have a serious medical condition that only one hospital can treat, I can’t leave the country right now. I wish that I could, but I can’t. I don’t know how to meet him halfway.

It’s interesting how things play out though. I mentioned God in my last post, and I know that anything and everything is possible with Him. I’m grateful that He is in my life, and I know that He will make this possible between me and the man that I love. It’s just a matter of time, prayer, and sacrifice to make a relationship work. I have seen so many terrible relationships around me; I don’t ever want to end up that unhappy. For the longest time, I didn’t believe in love. I truly didn’t. Not until I met the man I currently wish to marry.

It’s scary though, to think about the possibilities. I trust him with all my heart, but I can’t help but go back to how my own father was to my mother. It is so hard for me not to see those things in my mind as I think of my own future, and heaven forbid that I scare him off with my constant worrying and exploding into tears because of the stress of my current life. I am a strong person, but a person can only remain that way for so long. At some point you have to crack and let those emotions out.

It’s not that I’m worrying that it won’t happen – because I know that it will! However, I can’t help but worry because of the nature of my Generalized Anxiety Disorder, combined with a whole lot of other crap. Most people are very hesitant to admit they have mental illnesses, but I have to tell almost everyone I meet. I’ve been in therapy since I was a child, and I’m now an adult. I know the grind. I know the whole process of everything one has to go through when admitted to the Emergency Room because it happens more than I would like it to. I just happen to be born with an extremely rare disorder that has caused my heart to form incorrectly in the womb and I am one of the sole survivors of this condition. Not only is it unheard of, but it’s mostly 100% fatal. However, I managed to push past that and I’m one of the oldest with my condition to be alive today. It’s called a Hypoplastic Right Heart; feel free to look it up and read about it online. Though that isn’t the only thing I’m diagnosed with, it is the most severe.

So it worries me about things like marriage, traveling, and more – even though I desire to travel the world! What would I do so that I could go to different countries because I have to take fifteen different medications? How could I manage to convince people that I’m not a drug lord of some sort? What would I do if I had a heart attack, knowing that any hospital there could never treat me because my condition is so rare and unheard of? What would I do if I were to get sick while I was there, and be unable to get home? There’s so many things to consider, it can be overwhelming, circling around and around in my head until I have a full-fledged panic attack. That doesn’t help one bit.

Also, considering that doctors told my mom I would survive a week at the very most and I am now in my twenties, there is room to consider the fact that if I don’t marry the man I love now, I might not be able to later. I might get too sick. There are many things that threaten my life everyday, and it’s a miracle in and of itself that I awake each morning. Considering that I have a hard enough time breathing during the day, it’s harder to breathe at night when I’m asleep. I have damage to my lungs as well.

So…what do I do? The only thing I see as an option: move forward in my relationships, making sure that I do what I want while I’m still young, before unknown things happen that I can’t predict as I get older. It’s hard and it’s scary, but it’s my life, and I wouldn’t change it. I wouldn’t know how to live any other way. So I have to consider the most painful of things that no twenty-something should have to consider: how would I prefer to die? Die in surgery, or in a heart attack while out alone? Would I prefer to live my life to the fullest, knowing that I’ll shorten it, or should I live carefully, knowing that I’ll live longer? However, I know the answers to some of these questions. I want to live life to the fullest, even if it means living a shorter life. That means traveling when I can, regardless of the worries (unless I cannot take my medication with me under any circumstances, and if I were financially unable), and doing what I love, regardless of knowing that it endangers me. Something as simple as going to the grocery store endangers me, because although I do not have direct issues with my immune system, a simple common cold sends me to the Intensive Care Unit, or ICU for short.

I want to meet him halfway, and I will. I just need to pray on how I can do that. Things might be tough, but like I said: I will never change the way things are for a more ‘ideal’ life. This was the life I was given, therefore this is the life that I was meant to live. And if I’ve lived this long, then what’s to say I won’t live another twenty years, and be perfectly fine during that time? There is no guessing, no surety, only faith. That is where I base every single thing about my decisions: within faith in God and my Savior, Jesus Christ.

So, it’s hard and scary, but I’m in love, willing to do what I need to in order to be happy. In the process, I want to publish my books that I’ve written or am currently writing before I die. However, I don’t have the money. I just don’t. And no other publisher will accept me, so I must publish them myself. Plus, I don’t like contracts. In fact, I hate them. And I don’t use that word often.

So, get married, publish some books, and manage to make the money to fund those books, all while jumping on and off of the transplant list for both a heart and a liver. Simple, right? Not at all. Scary? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely.


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