On Gratitude: Kaleb

It is late in the day, a day filled with cleaning, applying for jobs at fitness studios, buying Christmas stockings, teaching a cardio class, bringing friends to the airport for a wedding, meeting another friend to borrow a training manual for a personal training certification, meeting my roommate from college for tea and talking, a late-night dinner, and more job submissions. It has been a very full day, and I am getting up in a few short hours to do some Pilates in my living room. But I am taking some time to write about gratitude. Today - and for the past five months (and then some) of my life - I am specifically grateful for Kaleb.

It is difficult to explain how Kaleb and I met. Usually, when someone asks, Kaleb sort of half-grins, looks in my general direction, and says, "Yeah, I'll let Chelsea explain that one." Kaleb and I met through my ex, who was good friends with Kaleb last fall. Although Kaleb lives far away, his presence was requested for a date lunch one day, as the ex's designated girlfriend-approver. My ex was still in the shower when Kaleb arrived at the apartment, and when I opened the door - a girl he had never seen before - he stopped, looked around dumbstruck, and waited for me to tell him that yes, he was, in fact, at the correct apartment. Our trio headed to grab hot dogs in the valley, Kaleb being the quieter type, but making a highly inappropriate joke about situps - which shall remain a secret - that nearly made me pee my pants in the backseat of the car. At lunch, I offered to get him a refill on his soda, and he looked at me, and responded, as though I was insane. Despite our wacky first meeting, we connected as friends, and found out we had a lot in common. Over the coming months, we talked more and more online - since Kaleb is about an hour and a half outside of Los Angeles - and helped each other deal with problems that came up, including the finality of two very sour relationships ending. Kaleb had been out of a relationship for several years, I had found out some disturbing things about my ex by this point, and we finally got to hang out in person. Nearly kicking and screaming (not really, but it took a lot of invites to finally get the guy to hang out with me), Kaleb came down for a little birthday party I threw him in May, where I got to meet some of his friends. We had only seen each other twice before in person, but we had spent so much time talking online that it was like seeing an old friend. A few weeks later, Kaleb graciously came down to help us move into our house, and by June - after many failed hints and me finally breaking down and sending a box of brownies which read, in M&Ms, "I Like You" (which Kaleb dreadfully opened at work, to the chagrin of his fellow employees) - we were dating. The rest is history. Or, I should say, our history is being written day by day. But I know this much: I have found the man of my dreams, and he was, and continues to be, worth every moment of heartbreak and sorrow it took to get to him.

I don't exactly know how to go about describing Kaleb, because, when that question is posed to me, the question of, "well what is he like?", my voice grows quiet and my smile takes over, just glowing as I think about where to begin. Kaleb is a rare gem, a perfect example of chivalry in a society where that is an antiquated - yet much needed - trait. He opens every door, including the car door. He always offers to drive, and rolls his eyes when I stubbornly say it's my turn. He holds my hand in public. He has no shame about hugging and kissing in the middle of Trader Joe's, so in love and perfect that the guy re-stocking the wine selection jokingly says, "get a room," at which Kaleb and I smile. He adores his great grandmother to the point that we make her homemade birthday cards and talk about going over to just have tea and talk, which he says she would love. He acts like a big brother to his friends, and gives advice on whatever is asked, without being overbearing. He is steady and quiet, yet loyal as can be, and his sense of humor never fails to make me laugh, even when the world seems like too much. He is thoughtful to the point of making me tissue paper flowers, which I can keep forever, because he knows I love flowers and can't always be there to buy them for me at Whole Foods, when he sees my eyes light up at the sight of lilies and downright insists on buying them. He is happy with what he has, whether that be incredible food at a surprise birthday dinner for me, or our meal of leftovers at home by a fire, talking until four in the morning, because it's cheaper - and quite frankly, cozier - than a date out. He is kind beyond reason, forgoing sleep and work to hold me or to talk to me if I am overwhelmed or sad, always putting himself last and everyone else in his life first. He is devoted, cleaning up all of the dishes, at his own house and at mine, because he knows how hard his dad works, and how I'm usually the one who does it here. He works harder than many people my parents' age, taking two jobs on while going to college, and all the while keeping it to himself. He strengthens my faith in God, explaining how our relationship is what has made him believe in soulmates, and describing his theory that, "we're going to be okay; God brought us together, to each other, and he figures that we can do the rest, that we can take care of each other now." He keeps me childish and playful, which I am so lucky for, because he will still let me tickle him to death, and will still be just as excited to make crayon artwork with me, when we are ninety. He is as stubborn as I am - a very, very difficult thing to be - but because of it, brings balance to my opinions. He is quietly charming, turning to me at our first dinner with my father, which happens to be at a nice seafood restaurant, and whispering, "Babe, why did the waitress put that knife in front of me?", as I smile and respond that it's not for the table's bread, but for the steak he has ordered. He is handsome as the day is long, with loving eyes that mirror my own deep hope for our future, and a smile that makes me melt, no matter how frustrated or pensive I may be. He is patient, realizing that an education, a puppy, and a relationship all take time and care to flourish. He is gentle, offering a massage or a soothing word or kiss at the end of a long day. He is loving, always wanting to cuddle as we fall asleep at night, talking about our dreams for the future and about how blessed we truly are. He is my lucky star, my compass, my "other half", as we like to say.

I sometimes joke about where he was hiding for the first twenty-three years of my life, but I know one thing; that even if, after ten years, I have decided that acting in Los Angeles is not for me, I will be forever grateful to it for leading me to Kaleb.

I am so grateful for this. I will wait as long as it takes.