Worrying Is My Middle Name

In case you don't know, I thought I'd confess a little trait about myself. I'm a chronic worrier. I can over-think and over-analyze with the best of them. 

I don't think Paul knew what to do with me years ago when we first started dating. I'm not sure if he'd ever known someone quite as "concerned" as I am about...well, everything. I'm the Queen of What-Ifs when Paul is the King of After-Thought. Perfectly enough, with his lack of concern and my excessive amount of it, we usually meet in the middle with a proper concern ratio. 

It's taken some time for me to understand Paul, too. I think it's odd he doesn't think about things the way I do. I mean, doesn't everyone worry that they are going to choke while home alone? Will 911 know where I am if I call from a cell phone even if I can't speak? Should I run outside so someone could at least find me blue or should I save energy/oxygen and try to heimlich myself on a chair? Dilemma if you ask me but Paul would say otherwise. "Don't worry" he says. "What's the chances you'll ever have to deal with that?" But in my mind I wonder, "What if..."

There is a reason for this random post, by the way. Ever since we moved to Johnson City and Paul began working construction, I've bugged him relentlessly about my work related worries. Construction adds a whole new subset of worry to my life including falling off roofs, cutting off limbs/fingers, nail gun injuries to brain or eyes, falling off ladders, asbestos exposure and even the threat of skin cancer since he's out in the summer sun all day. (Paul is awful fair skinned, you know?) Paul thinks I'm crazy but has humored me by not telling me his near misses of falling off a roof and even put sunscreen on this past summer. 

Last night Paul was telling me about his new job location nearly an hour away. "I barely have cell phone service out there. I could barely even text you." Looking back, that should have been a red flag prompting my many questions of "what ifs" but strangely enough, it didn't faze me. (Maybe I'm starting to learn a little something from Paul, after all.) This morning I woke up, came downstairs and found a little note lying on the couch. It said:

"Bethany, If there is an emergency and you need me, call Carl xxx-xxx-xxxx. I love you! -Paul"

It made me smile and tear up a little. Little gestures like that remind me of his love for me. He gave me the gift of peace of mind without having to be asked.

And that goes a long way for a chronic worrier like me...

Love and Happiness,

Bethany