Obligatory apology for not posting in a long time, my readers. I do still love you, I still love God, I still love others, and myself to some extent, but there are a lot of things that should and do shake me up today. Well, mostly myself. And the idiocy I am capable of. In order to make this acknowledgment of failure easier, I will become a character in a story and there will be others. I might use my old names from the beginning of this blog to do it.
Ever-so-cavalier, Alyce opened her online chatting device and wrote to her friend that she needed to break up with her fake high school boyfriend, referring to Scott Pilgrim, to which her friend online gave her a sincere "awww". But it was an unfamiliar feeling, the satisfaction with only friendships. The disturbing emotional possession of her female friends was not unfamiliar, but the method by which she communicated with them had. The lack of real, deep, consuming attraction to males in the past several months was almost shocking. Small bits of attraction were not enough to sustain a romantic relationship, she knew, not even one that was decidedly part platonic. Yet into this, she had entered, willingly, just as decisively. In her car, in his driveway, gripping the steering wheel with the parking lights on, telling just how confusing the ambiguity she had initiated was for her. How she'd rather they "date" than not-date, just-be-friends. But when that relationship entered the lower plane of ambiguity, when she agreed to cheesily, jokingly, change her status on Facebook with the young man beside her, she knew. She'd known the whole time. She still didn't know what she wanted. She knew his hurt was sealed with her wishy-washy heart of stone.
Perhaps she wasn't as content as she said. Perhaps the poor boy was right when he accused her of hiding behind humor, which was something common to her and those she knew. There was little to be done in the area of denial, of self-deception. But what exactly was wrong with her? She thought of her half-hearted prayers since the conclusion of the youth group trip high in July. She thought of the wonder and aw and sacrifice she'd been willing to make after that time--the depth of her relationship with her Creator, Savior, Heavenly Father, finally restored. She had grown, she'd thought so enthusiastically just the week before. Because she'd been so ambivalent with Jesus in the months before that trip.
And yet she still intentionally hurt others. But perhaps that was just that sinful, utterly fallible self she was--it was part of her humanity. But no one else should have been hurt because of her. There were only two ways to go about such a situation--acknowledge her responsibility, her mistakes, her half-truths, with humility and full honesty. Then face the consequences. Or, she could go along with her deception and string it further, make it grow like an internet myth from the scummy /b/ board of 4chan. If there was anything she was good at, it was digging graves. Especially her own and others.
There was always the right thing, and it was displayed right in front of her eyes. Her massive record of making the wrong choice was displayed in the eyes of her mind. It would do well, to begin to make the right decision. Sometime she had to.
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So I realize there are more important things in life. That I am fundamentally self-centered, and I either overthink or think too little when I do anything of significance. Like last night, when I chilled myself over my mom's inquiry of my search for a new nursing-related course to replace the Ethics course I discovered I was unqualified to take yesterday at school. When I chewed her out, when I saw that part of myself that had been eliminated almost entirely after my youth group's trip to an amazing, Holy Spirit-moving conference in New Orleans. Regression sucks. Poor decisions suck. I'm still full of arrogance and air and selfishness. I wish I could make my decisions purely utilitarian as my ethics book described--for the most good for the most people. But I pick things in the moment, what makes me feel good now, only to regret those things later. And God (literally) knows what that comes down to in the long run. I hate learning lessons and coming of age and having to be responsible--I really don't hate those things, they're good for me, but it's uncomfortable, it's guilt-inducing, it's apology-slathering, it's difficult. But dear Lord, if I don't learn now, where the hell am I going to be ten years from now? Note how I've written a lot of sentences starting with "I". I was trying not to do that for the longest time, to make conversations and relationships about other people--about us, not me. Creating meaning, significance, kindness, mutual interest and respect. Instead of a one-sided lengthy rant from my end being partially responded to on the other side. I've been terrifically horrible at that recently as well.
Is this a laundry list of ridiculousness? Some sort of twisted self-pitying, pathetic little piece of awful I've written now? Probably. It's still honest, this is still my blog, but I'd probably look better if I would just write of my ire about terribly unjust circumstances in the real world and not the little ball of stupid I roll around in everyday. I'll try to make one of those good posts next time. Anyway, I hope there's something anyone can get out of this mess. God bless, everyone. He loves you. Perfectly. I can't, but I will try to show His love somehow, when I'm not being this.
