Independence Day was just this weekend. On the eve of the Pride celebrations, I recently reevaluated what Pride meant to me and was happily surprised. Three days after the 4th of July, I've realized how non-independent I really am.
Sure, I can support a family, have a couple of bank accounts in just my name and prefer riding my motorcycle alone, but truth be told, I'm codependent and loving it.
I love waking up next to someone, a couple of someones, in fact. I love knowing that I won't be spending my holidays alone. I love having "our song", not just "my song". I love not dreading slow dances. I love being in love.
My codependence stretches beyond romance. I love depending on Starbucks to be everywhere, open and great about getting my tall, decaf, two-pump soy mocha with light whip right, every time. I love depending on Billy Mays' (may he RIP :( products to work every time. I love knowing that Odie will be wagging his tail and waiting anxiously at the door for me, no matter how many times I come through it. I love knowing that my martial arts school has been consistent for 40 years and that they'll be the same tomorrow. I love knowing that I'll always have a musician in the family.
I love depending on others who depend on me for love.
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