Perspective

I choked over it today. She asked me if I was going on a mission's trip. Lindz mentioned she wasn't and my face darkened. I almost cried over it. My voice wavered and I was off guard to You (just like I was when You used my testimony at youth). Which means it's back...

This stupid passion is growing again. But You're perfecting it. I know that now.

She almost cried when I asked her what disappointed her most. She was selfless. She's been given so much, she said, that it hurts when she sees that her friends have so little. She wasn't disappointed that she wasn't fulfilling her potential. Because she knows already that it's not about her.

Wow. I want that. Maybe. I ask You for things than ask You to take them away. I asked for transparency today, and it was well. I almost told Lindz. But not yet. She will know about me, my past, my sin, my chains -now broken- that will always be a part of my story. She may run.
But I think she'll be supportive.

I am finding friendship again.

I think she is tortured. I remember sobbing over her when our floor met for Spiritual Emphasis Week. I remember screaming into my fist, trying to draw blood just to prove that she did not have to endure pain alone. From that moment, I knew I'd be there.

But of this she is unaware. Because I cannot share this depth unless I share my own.

I must stop recoiling at his face and his name. I must stop shoving him away because I think of her. He is not her. She is not him. He probably doesn't even remember. In fact, this hatred is selfish. I am bruised because I did not protect her, because I stabbed her in the back. Because I am not strong. I am selfish.

What can I do to release her? Perhaps she is released, but she too will forever be a part of my story.

As I sit here in this chair, wishing for anything

Why am I always angry with You at night? What gives? I'm freaking out over here because I can't control my spending. Ever. This is why no one should give me access to anything ever. I will use it and abuse and go buck wild crazy. I'm PISSED that I can't get a grip on my spending because it means that I'll never get a grip on anything else. GOD, I'm so useless!

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING?! You've taken writing from me, You haven't called me to anything even though everyone else and their mother here has heard You. What about me?! Aren't I good for something?! ...Please? I'll serve soup in a kitchen all my life if You want me to.

Just call me. Call me and don't take it back. Stop doing that, please. Stop letting my imagination run frantic if none of it matters.

I don't want Your heart either. I hate sobbing over anything. And when You sob... I can't breathe. My throat closes up and I want to vomit. I want to do something but You only show me the problem, never the solution.

I will never forget that Senior Trip. Ever. I will never forget crying against the wall when she was sobbing on the floor, broken by her abortion and her confusing relationship. I will never forget when he was drunk out of his mind, but he was sobbing too because he was never the friend he wanted to be. I will never forget how no one else felt it. Instead they all gossiped. "I guess it's true", "Sounds like it is. I mean why else would he..."

I will never forget how angry I was in that moment. How much I wanted to scream at all of them. "You know nothing! Shut up shut up shut up!"

I'll never forget how I knew nothing too. How I let her beat the crap out of her best friend and I just stood there and watched, assuming she deserved it. How immature and stupid and utterly sickening I am.

I have forgotten his callousness. I hope I will not speak to him again and it will all flood back into me. Maybe I should forget him too. Go our own ways. We were never best friends. Just friends. Hardly acquaintances. Sharing interests but never any depth.

I stiffen at his presence. I purposely avoid eye contact. I cannot re-filter him.

I pretend that I am fine because I have no possible way to say all of this to anyone. But I am honest. Or trying to be. Such a conditional word. To be truly honest, would I not have to explain everything to them? From the earliest days I can remember, to my broken relationships, to my gluttony, to my lust, to my thoughts of suicide, to my regrets, to my hatred, to my apathy, to my selfishness, and all that is in between.

And who has time for that much stuff? Not even I do.

All at Once it Comes

I think we most often forget who we belong to. I think I forget that I am not my own and I am not my parents'. I have no dreams or aspirations because I am an empty vessel. I am blank, not even a mirror for others to see themselves.

Those are the Empaths, and I realized why I was not one. I am blank. I will either tell you what you want to hear or I will tell you the opposite. I am not an Empath because I do not dwell on the depressions and brokenness of others. I will remember them in prayer and I will feel compassion and a brief moment of being in their position, but I will not feel sick for days.

I am empty, blank, and I reflect only what I can muster up. Generally I am without emotion. Usually I am a failure at being a friend because I know so little of social etiquette and true depth because of my broken relationships. I leave my friends in the dust. I fail them, I know. I will yell, scream, roll my eyes, passive aggressively ignore them, and all other things.

I know one such Empath who read me like a book, which I hated. I hate when other people know what I'm thinking. But I suppose that is a form of pride. I hate being an open book and I hate trying to purposely impart my feelings. My communication is so horrific that I do not communicate myself to anyone and I come off as proud or uncaring when I am genuinely not.

I've lost relationships. And because I've lost them, I feel You will ask me to cut off more. So why get attached? Why bother? Why have dreams and aspirations when You will demand my whole heart, then rip them from me?

This is why I love nothing other than the obvious. This is why I am a Learner; I will thirst for everything so You can't possibly hold it all back. I challenge You because I hate what you put me through.

This is why I am Paul. This is why I will not be called to marriage nor to children. And suddenly Aya's point of view makes a world of sense. Not that that would've mattered considering her history with reciprocated crushes. (Not that that is a bad thing, though I have come to the conclusion that I am green with envy whenever someone mentions a crush. I am harsh to break their dreams because mine have been so broken and I can't stand to see someone else with as much happiness as I want and deserve.)

As though I deserve anything. Ever. Not even life. I deserve death. Which is why I think I am finally ok with dying without accomplishing anything. Everyone wants to go out with a bang, make this huge impact. But no one realizes that it is in fact their arrogance that makes them want to impact so many. Who says You've called us to it? Who says You've called me to something bigger than me? That's not accurate. Your Kingdom is much bigger than me, whether I save one person or one hundred thousand. (There it goes again - "I", "me", like I'm the one who changes another's heart.)

I've also realize that I am a social invalid because of my pride. I do not risk anything to be friendly and I do not risk myself to join in something outside of my clique. I do not risk being awkward or honest or transparent because I am afraid of someone seeing me as less than what I show myself to be.

Even as I type this post, it has become all about me me me. And there are so many others who need prayer or support or encouragement. So I apologize for not being there as a support. I am sorry I stood by when you needed me or wanted me to say something. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I gloss over your heart's greatest aches. I am sorry.

WhatisthisIdon'teven-

I've been noticing something over the past couple of weeks. Ever since I made the decision to stop being passionate about anything, I have, in fact, stopped being passionate about anything.

Crazy, right?

I feel like Clara Barton. I did a report on her back in the 5th grade and I still remember one specific point I made about her character and personality. She lived to please people. Her parents wanted her to be a school teacher; being too shy to speak up, she did. She was good at it too. Then she got into nursing and that was her career passion.

I feel like I'm not really supposed to be an English teacher. Some days I can picture it and other days I realize just how much I abuse the language, trip over my words, misinterpret books, never read between the lines, mess up every sentence I want to communicate, and how incredibly and annoyingly introverted I am. I'm too afraid to do anything ever.

UGH.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in my element when I'm up in that booth, typing out lyrics, and switching system checks. But then I realize just how incredibly little I know and how utterly futile it is to attempt to advance up the ranks. I don't belong in a higher rank. I have no ear for music, thus cannot sound check. Ever. Unless that's something you can learn, which I doubt. I'm disparagingly shakey and thus cannot hold a camera. My lack of intelligence and knack frustrates me.

I hate that I know nothing. It's so weird coming from a school where I had a reputation as the smart kid, the jerk, kind of the top dog (thanks to ASB). Here I'm in a whole other gene pool of talent and leadership and I realize that I wasn't even a leader or talented to begin with! I was with a bunch of other people who depicted me that way.

Everyone here can sing, play an instrument, draw or paint, is a leader of something, or is otherwise known. I've got nothing tangible or obvious. Maybe there's something buried way down in there, I don't know. I'm a frickin' junior and I have no time to impact anybody; I can't even impact myself! Maybe if I were a freshman I could work up the ranks, but now I'm barely legal, two years ahead of myself, and about to start a career.

This is crazy.

And another thing (see how much I ramble!? I had a whole different point for starting this blog entry) I am starting to remember how stupidly pointless stuff is. Like dating. Sorry, but it's stupid. You don't have time for that! You're in frickin' college! STOP THE FRICKIN FLIRTING YOU IMBECILES! You have papers to write and tests to study for. You have a career you're training in. Thank GOD I've chosen Paul's lifetime committment. Way simplier that way and a lot less drama.

Not that THAT matters because I can't do ANYTHING for Your frickin' kingdom! Come ON! You shot down Haiti! What else am I supposed to do?! Donate some stuff to a homeless shelter. Yeah, how fulfilling that is. Maybe for a day or two until it's over. Then I'm just as hopelessly vacant as ever. UGH I'm really frustrated with You. Again. (We fight a lot don't we? Ugh, whatever, I need it as motivation for supporting my faith.)

Thank You it's Friday. Almost.

I can't think about anything else to rant about so...here.

OH no wait. WHY DO I KEEP THINKING ABOUT DAN AND SICI?! I'm done with Sici; I know You're not throwing me back in there no matter how much I think about how unsaved she is. I did what I could and I screwed up royally. Everytime I see Dan I think of Sici and THAT'S starting to really piss me off. My perspective of him is colored, I know. Because I keep thinking of every promise I broke to Sici. And I can't get him through a new filter.

I'm going to sleep. Wake me when I stop feeling angry.