Love is Hard.

So.

I've been a single woman for almost 38 days...and I've written my thoughts in this little notebook everyday. Each time I think of him, I write it in the notebook. My plan is to give it to him in the event that we get back together.
It is quite possible that I will write in this notebook forever...

I can honestly say that I have faced some pretty dark moments...with only the presence of my Heavenly Father as a comfort. I have had quite a few victorious moments; where we caught rare glimpses of each other, and were reminded of what it is that we actually share. I have darted back and forth from hating you to needing you, and God has sustained my heart. He is keeping me, daily. Moment by moment.

Second by second.

There are times when I begin to think that I am being treated unfairly. That I am being taken advantage of. I think, at times, that this (or he) is not worth going through all of this pain. Being a woman, I am not built with the innate ability to ignore or distract myself from my emotions. And though I have managed to make them my servants, and not becoming enslaved by them, I still cannot ignore their presence. So, each time I want to react or give up...when I want to throw it all away...I fall to my knees and submit them to the only Person who can give me the strength to go on.

I have wanted to hurt him. Erase him completely from my memory. Make him experience what it is like to be dead to me. And tears well up in my eyes when I think on these things, because I do not wish to live life without him. I very well could...but the thought gives me such a sickening feeling.

I love this man. Truly. Even though he swears that he knows not who he is yet...I love him. The him that I know he truly is...inside. I love the him that he is becoming. I love the him that he cannot even recognize. And I see that the circumstances and issues woven in and through his heart are more entangled than he would like. So, I pray and I beg God to cradle him while he endures this road to self-discovery...hoping that when he reaches his destination; I am still who he wants in his life.

I stand in the spot that has been a constant since before we started dating: the loyal friend. Not like most, who weave into and out of his life during moments of convenience or need. Even though he is completely reflective and has retreated deeply inside of himself (making an appearance when necessary). Even when I am confused about where his mind dwells....because he doesn't talk to me as much these days. Regardless, I stand.

Here.
Scared to death to move; shushing the cries of my heart.
Blinking back tears as I take it, blow by blow.
I won't leave him now.

Love Is Hard - James Morrison

Lonely In the Crowd

I have come to a decision.

I really need a Best Friend. Almost all of the people that I know in my life are there for a purpose, and a God-given purpose at that, but no one is here to offer me unconditional empathy and understanding. I am there to hold them in a strong embrace and listen to their problems and issues…stay up with them into the wee hours of the morning and pray with them…but no one is taking one second to be there for me. I am the loyal listener. The weeping heart for the pain of men. God’s given me the gift of mercy and affirmation, but my cistern remains dry most of the time.

And I’m not talking about advice. No…I get plenty of that. Everyone has a say-so in my situation on an intellectual and at times, a prophetic level. But mouths grow silent when I am not the one being strong. People are shocked when I am stand-offish and quiet; lacking the right words or the encouraging statement. I see turned backs and upturned noses when I am irrational and cruel.

And I cannot do this anymore. I can’t keep giving with no one willing to listen to me.

I get the patronizing “Are you okay?” but no one really wants to hear the answer. No one will grab me and hold me until each and every tear has left my eyes.

I recently texted a friend of mine to pray for me because of a issue I was going through with my recent dispersed relationship….she told me later that she would rather have not been in the middle… said a quick “Lord, help them” for me…and then went back to sleep.

I don’t have the time or the luxury to be weak in my life. I go to RA meetings and accountabilities in public places with people who ask me questions so that I can open my life up wide…but because there are schedules to keep and logistics to tackle…I keep a lid on what I say. It isn’t that I do not trust these people…I am longing for a Friend to completely trust and lay down my burdens to.

The reality is that I am surrounded by needy, broken people. And that I am myself.

In reading my Word, I noticed that every time Jesus attempted to get alone with the Father…or even with His closest companions…he was interrupted by the cries of the crowd. I understand that God is my life-force. He is my Best Friend. He is the only person that I can truly confide in…

…but who is my Beloved Disciple? Who are my best friends? Where are they? Why am I all alone in this?

Why am I facing the certainty of the Cross in solitude?

But didn’t Jesus? He had the disciples, yes. But they all fled. In His moment of intense need, they all abandoned Him. And there He was….enduring the sins of the world on that rugged tree….alone. And He cried out,

“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani”

Even in that moment…Our Lord and Savior felt abandoned by God. His Father. He felt that God had turned His holy face away from the pain that His Only Son was enduring.

But He was there. Right there.

Regardless of His Father’s silence…Jesus paid it all.

For me.
For you.
For every lonely heart pushing through this crowded, overpopulated world.

That we would never again have to feel that coldness that Adam & his wife Eve felt as they stood looking through the outside gates of their lost paradise…

A Means to an End.

I have no desire to be honest or direct about my love life at the moment.
I don't want anyone to know how much I despise patience and the seasons that involve stillness.
This process is simply a means to an end.
And I don't want you to know that I am hating this...

Stress outlines your eyes in red, but the substance exiting my heart possess the same hue.
But I don't want to say a word.
Honesty would only turn the attention from your pain to mine...with only the latter ceasing.
So, if my absence is like a warm balm on your wounds...then I will stay away forever.
My means to an end... for you.

No. I don't want to admit this...I don't want anyone to know that I am in this tomb alone.
That I die a thousand deaths each time I am near enough to touch you.
Yet this is my means to an end...
...Because nothing can be resurrected if it isn't first lifeless.
So, I will endure these three cold, motionless days if it means that love lives here.

Giving.Up.

At some point last night...I snapped.

I don't want to do it anymore.
Even after a recent 2 1/2 day break from classes...I, for the first time this semester,
want to give up. I am just plain tired.
Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Tired of staring eyes. Tired of haughty, hard-headed, disrespectful Freshman.
Tired of a million things on my daily to-do list.
Tired of seeing my roommate go to bed after 2 am because she has no choice.
[I am tired for her.]

Tired of always having to be all things to all men.
Advocate.
Counselor.
Friend.
Disciplinarian.
Coach.
Shepherd.
Student.
Girlfriend.
Daughter.
Adult.
Woman.
Black.

Tired of always being expected to rise above it all.
Being the bigger person.
Turning the other cheek.

Tired of seeing my love struggle...
...watching him hang on to a small strand of hope.
Sometimes I don't know how he manages to hang on.
[Today, he threw down his pencil in disgust and said, "I give up."
I'm tired of acting like that doesn't hurt me in some strange way.]

Tired of seeing young, educated black students
act like they are untouchable.
As if they aren't one second away from poverty, or illegitimacy.

I am tired of shallow Faith and being forced into unfulfilling worship.
Sick of being patient for revival.

I'm tired of loud cliques and lonely faces.
Tired of gossip and slander.
Tired of fake smiles and those who act like they respect you.

I am tired of praying for strength...I just simply want to Be.
I wish to just spend my days in gratitude...but these weak hands and feeble knees distract me.

::Sigh::

I give up.
Completely, this time.
God? Do you hear me??!!

...I give up.
Now please...do it through me.

Psalm 127:1

Unless the Lord builds the house,
they labor in vain who build it;
Unless the Lord guards the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.