Valentine's Day

Why do people hate Valentine's Day, when there's always this kind of love for them?

Falling

I was thinking about writing this post last night, and this morning I read my dad's post that was very similar to what I wanted to say. Thanks for the motivation, dad!

I recently downloaded this song from iTunes:


I thought it was all very lovely and romantic until I remembered an article dad had given me to read a long time ago. (I can't find the exact one, but here is a similar article.) Basically the idea was you don't "fall" in love, you choose to love each day. Although I still think the song is very beautiful, I think of one letter Kurt sent me:

(click to enlarge)

When I first read it I thought it was just one of those cute things he says. But really, now it makes me feel even more special and loved. He chose to love me. He's not a victim of chance or happenstance or infatuation or some love spell, he looked at all my faults and foibles and still chose to love me anyways. And for that, I will always be grateful!

P.S. Dad, I hope you enjoyed finally reading one of Kurt's letters, hahaha .=)

Need a Hopeless Romantic?

I have always secretly wondered what being a hopeless romantic meant. I thought it meant just that when you watch movies, you root for the couple that seems they'll never get together. I don't know if a hopeless romantic is what I am, but I do know this: I love love.

Need someone to hear your giddy ramblings about the best date ever you just went on? I'm your girl. Need someone to boast to about all your wedding preparations and plans? I'll be there. Need someone to root for you every step of the way and get almost as excited as you do? Look no further. Maybe it's just because I like happy, and I adore how love makes people so happy and giggly (ok, girls at least), but I think I love love. I love how it makes you feel all warm and sparkly inside, and how you always want to be smiling but you're afraid your face will hurt. I love how it makes you think positive thoughts every waking moment, and it fills your whole self with hope.

So... you should try it. (Hey, if you need a support group, wing(wo)man, or just an attentive listener, you know where to find me!)

Home

What constitutes a home? Before I came to college, I always thought I'd know Virginia was home, and college would just be like a vacation or an extended trip. But now that I'm here and I've been back Home, I felt bad referring to BYU as "home", but I realized that BYU has become my home as well. I remember one time at Youth Conference, we were divided up into "families" and assigned a couple from the stake as our "parents". Everyone else immediately started calling them "Mom" & "Dad", but I was always never into that type of thing. I had friends at home who called other friends' moms "Mom" too... like "Momma Carwile" and "Momma Betty" and stuff, and I thought that was so inappropriate. But for some reason, it just felt natural after a couple days at YC to call my groupleaders "Mom" & "Dad". They were so kind, and I loved them. Then when I came to BYU, it again felt comfortable to call my FHE leaders "Mom" & "Dad". I don't know if I should be happy about that, because I've heard we're not supposed to do so.... I don't know. And then today I had to go upstairs to the 3200 floor to use their bathroom, because cleaning time always happens to dawn right when I return home from the morning's classes... it was my first time doing that, I usually hate doing stuff like that, I think it's weird, so I just wait, but I couldn't today. Right when I got upstairs, I just got this weird feeling... like it wasn't home. It was set up the exact same as our 2200 hall, but it wasn't mine. It wasn't home.

So my question is... am I just becoming a lazy person succumbing to the trends of society, calling people "Mom" & "Dad" left and right, and throwing "home" out with no thought of where it lands, or am I just realizing a different definition of these terms? Do "Mom" & "Dad" mean people that you love and have taught and advised you, or just the people that gave life to you? Does "home" mean where you are comfortable and loved, or just the building in which you spent most of your life?