The deeper I let someone grow close, the farther you seem to go, and my fragile ego gets in the way, denying access for anyone else to cross into my heart like you did. A decade has passed, yet the feeling of your hand in mine as we drive down the busy street still sparks my heart.
I still yearn for you but know the tragedy of the desire to have you as we are not meant to be, I can’t say if, it’s yet and maybe there is still more learning for us to do as individual or if, God truly had us together for a once upon a time and never again, breaking my heart in the process of “This isn’t going to work but I still love you”
Heartbreaking but true, I know what to do, but doing it is a lot harder than thinking it. The process of breaking you out of my head and the chains that bind me to you is more troubling than expected.
A young love is to never be more than just that.
I forgot part of the past, left behind with the high school diploma and the first kiss in the rain, a surprise birthday party, and friends who were left behind. The more I think about it, the more I remember it ended for a reason, and to leave the past in the past, giving the heartache to God once again.
I don’t want to yearn for a relationship; I want to yearn for God. I want to be lost in him and find someone who sees me because they see how found I am in my worth in God.
I love love, and I have always had a perfect vision of how I would find the one and live the perfect life I expected to have once I was married.
The older I get, the more I understand that marriage does not solve the problems you had beforehand, nor does it prevent the problems that arise in life.
Sometimes I wonder if I want to subject someone to take on my issues and my past struggles with suicide, depression, and epilepsy, because who can I trust to walk alongside me as I deal with it as it comes?
My dad recently asked me “Was I ever tempted in high school?” referring to drugs, alcohol, sex- I told him “No” I often wonder was it my demeaner of how I held myself as a Christian that people who dabble in that world knew I would never fold even though if I was to be asked as teen I have no idea how I would have respond to a boy I liked or someone I really wanted to be friends with.
I sometimes think I freaked people out with how happy I always seemed because it was the mask I wore, happiness suited me well, and the fear of not being seen as the perfect Christian, and the fear of falling under the pressure that no one but myself added.
I have to repeat this, no one ever said I had to be perfect in anyway as a Christian or a women but in my head watching everyone cleaned and dressed up and polished at church or just out in the world and on social media I just assumed everyone had it together and forgot to stop for a moment and ask them “How are you really doing?”
And when I would, I got scared of the answer: I’m not okay. And if they say they are not OK, is anyone okay? The whole facade would be shattered, and I’d be hit with the debris.
Mums the word 