Someday’s I feel like I’ve just stepped back into those awkward teenage years, just without the bad acne and voice skipping.
Confession: For the past two weeks I’ve had one single, specific thought process that has had me aching and reeling with thoughts of distress, mistrust, and poor guidance.
My night have been horrifically treated with lack of sleep and endless nightmares.
My days blur together like a numbing transit of time and space with no actually intellectual position on life.
I pour my time into soccer, work, and attempting acts of sleeping and running. It’s just not triggering the ideology of content, peace, or goodwill. I’ve found my temper to be short, my words to be harsh, and overall I haven’t been the most pleasant person to be around; at all. For those who have found themselves uncomfortably around me, I apologize for the past and perhaps in advance as I continue to try to understand my own mind, heart, and soul.
I could have made this post ‘X’ or ‘Mobile Minutes’ or whatever I would have chosen.
However, I decided out of spite and simple intelligence that ‘love letters’ may be best suited when discussing the hot topic that I consistently flee away from.
Honestly, if I’m being truthful with my thoughts; I can’t even express to you the absolutely terrifying idea of dating, relationships, anything along the lines. Even from a friend, a simple, “Are you OK? You’re quiet.” just instantly brings me back to the text over my phone, the phone calls late at night, every single moment in my past relationship where I made mistakes. I made the wrong move, and I further damaged myself and inflicted further turbulence to a already disruptive relationship and marriage.
I think back to where Jesus talks about the plague of the divorce is that once it is done, it’s going to be with you for the rest of your life. In many ways, it can become your label.
Why do you think that I love wrapping myself up in business? Work? Soccer? Traveling? Anything that can keep me moving? Simply put: to escape. Someday’s I think that there is no reason that anyone would even want to be with me, period. It’s a self-esteem and faith-lacking issue. Other day’s, when I humor the idea of growing old, having a family, even just a house as newly weds, or the first date…anything of those sense; I paralyze myself with fear and acknowledgement of this thought:
I’ll never be ready. I’ll never go back.
For as much apologizing as I’ve done over the past 11 1/2 months I stubbornly, regrettably, and sinfully refuse to forgive myself. I just will not do it. I cannot look in the mirror and convince myself that now, tomorrow, or ever that I would be a good husband. I’m self-centered, egotistical, profit driven; everything wrong with so many men in today’s world; I’m no different.
I see these Godly men around me, the ones with families, newly weds, or committed faithfully to their significant one, but not nearly as dedicated to their God and sorrowfully I cringe to idea that I’d do anything to be in that position; not just in the idea of a loving spouse, but just as a Godly man.
I believe we could chalk this up as a mere pity-party of the sorts, and I’d probably agree and refuse the opportunity to debate. Mark it up as a loss I suppose.
What’s even more unfortunate about this ever deluding thought process is the damage that is brings to a kingdom that I try to promote, to brag on, to demonstrate its love. I mean, tell me, what is God thinking while watching me type these thoughts. I brag so much on faith and what amazing things He has done, but I’m basically telling me, “No, not even You can make someone, anyone, that would be willing to deal with this. Even if you did, I would never commit, because in the end. They’d just leave. They always do.”
I try very hard not to ever get rooted into a niche, or micro-culture of any specific area because of the realization that nothing stays the same forever. For as much as I enjoy my cat that I’ve had for nearly two decades, I’ve fought to never become attached to her. Why? Because she will die. She will disappear. She is just a cat. While I’d hate to compare people to cats and other items in which we grow attached to, the fact is that everyone comes and goes, and I fear that there’s no one that would be willing to stay, or attempt to stay up with myself.
Late at night, when I’m exhausted and for one moment I allow the world to collapse onto me, I spent a split second thinking of what it is life. Trying to envision the joy that so many around me have encountered through their marriages, relationships, and everything in between. Naturally, I’d like my own story. However, as I quietly drift to sleep I tend to think that those chapters will strictly remain dreams.