I think it's time I told you something. Something that still makes me childishly giddy with happiness, something that makes me feel mysterious and unexpected, even five and a half months later. But first, some background.
I don't like female main characters*.
* Except Wonder Woman, whom I love.
I love Bojangles*.
* Though sometimes Bojangles makes me sick.
I hate Chinese food*.
* But PF Chang's is one of my favorite restaurants.
I love cats*.
* But unfortunately I'm allergic to them.
I hate flowers*.
* But I actually love orchids.
I hate gray area*.
* Although I do rely on and often seek out gray areas.
I'm terrible at directions*.
* Except inexplicably in Italy. I never get lost in Italy, and can even create efficient shortcuts.
I am not girly*.
* But I do love dresses, skirts, and makeup.
I'm a writer*.
* I don't actually write very often anymore.
I'm not a touchy-feely person*.
* But I like snuggling with Gabe in bed.
I'm a huge cheapskate*.
* Except for when it comes to books. There is always money for books.
I need alone time to recharge*.
* But I get bored and lonely really easily.
I'm terrible at tedious, detailed things*.
* But I'm an editor.
I am a dead, failed creature*.
* But through Jesus, I'm made alive and perfect.
I would never get a tattoo without my best friend Cassidy there*.
* Unless it was only my honeymoon.
An asterisk. A piece of punctuation. A reminder to pay attention, an indication of exception. Sometimes we love them; sometimes we hate them. They're a part of language; they're a part of humanity. They're certainly a huge part of me (and sometimes I love it, sometimes I hate it).
It's tiny. It's subtle. It's hidden. But never doubt, every time you look at me, there's an asterisk behind my left ear.