When we first met, I remember two things really-really clearly about Jay. One: He kept playing with a rubber band in one hand and it popped. (He later told me he was nervous.) And two: He was wearing a white turtleneck— to which I thought “ooph, buddy. C’mon. Who wears white turtle necks anymore dude?!?!”

He was so nerdy, exquisitely intelligent (EXQUISITELY INTELLIGENT = my kryptonite ) and, as I would soon find out, he was also REALLY brilliantly funny. He has (present tense because I’ll bet it’s still true) the kind of humor that doesn’t try too hard, or waste time being super showy by announcing itself with grand gestures of ‘joke alert. I’m about to say something witty’. Not at all. His sense of humor was just there waiting for you to notice it. We laughed at SOOOOOOO much, so much of the time when we were together. There were times that we’d be in random places and would both see something ironic and would have to hold our breath not to fall apart into laughter on the spot. Most of those times, one of us would be playfully pleading— “please don’t say anything” or “I can’t look at you”—so that we wouldn’t break. We weren’t always successful at NOT laughing in inappropriate settings because, you know, the more you’re trying not to laugh, the more the laughter is just making your whole body rumble. Ohmygosh, we had SO.MUCH.FUN!

Our relationship was easy. Even the hard moments were gentle. One day, we were upset about something hurtful (who knows what) and had talked ourselves silent. Then finally, to break the silence, Jay said (totally straight) “cue the rain”… and we were laughing until our lungs heaved. “Cue the rain” became our code for feeling sad or reaching an impasse; and also our way of taking care of each other and ourselves.

I was so in love with Jay (yep, his real name). When I shared this (and stories of him) with a close friend, she was pretty adamant that he wasn’t Christian enough. She meant well. She was wrong tho’. Yet, I didn’t trust myself enough yet way back then; didn’t trust my faith nor my own ability to ‘hear’ well enough to counter her on that. I bought the lie, so to speak. Held back. Questioned. And eventually we broke up.

The rest of that year (summer and fall really) was spent intermittently in the center of my living room floor—where I cried and reasoned with my shattered heart. I worked hard to buy the lie I’d believed and sold to my own heart. Ugh.

Eventually he emotionally moved on and so did I.

My most important lesson of this entirely ache-worthy experience would be this: Allowing someone else (anyone other than yourself essentially, no matter how well intentioned) to decide for you the big decisions of your life is so costly. Also, THIS: Realizing too late what would have been the right decision might lead to years of regret before you’re finally ready to forgive your own stooooooopidity.— For me, it took actual years. Ugh and also yikes!

I’m just saying…

Even if, for example, your friends are voting for the Republican candidate but your heart says #voteblue and down-ballot Dems… walk into the booth and do exactly that. Embrace it. Here’s the thing: Your friends will still be your friends! They’ll come around or they won’t. It won't matter eventually.

Love and elections are similar in that way. We don’t lose them solely because of external influences— whether the intervening opinions of friends or family or compelling political ads, or polls etc.

Elections are lost when people of good conscious don’t make a decision to vote for the person they know is the best fit for them; and for the future generations who will be born (if you will) as a result of their decision.

So I'm rooting for each of us and the whole country is too, to reflect deeply on our decision and then to VOTE.

In the general election #whenweallvote, we do it from the heart. Otherwise… cue the rain.