The world will not end when you will it. Truth is, it will keep spinning in spite of your protests. But knowing what I know now, I can guarantee that you will still not want to start over again. It is easy to say we will forgive someone when they hurt us deeply. But the actual practice is much more difficult to employ. I am tired of saying that I will do better and then predictably failing in the last place I was tested. Tired of giving up at the exact moment that I need to fight. But I also know that just because a person is sorry, does not mean you have to give them another chance to get it right. How many times have we made promises we knew we could not keep? How many times have our mistakes pushed us down to our knees? I have wounded others because I refused to admit that I was wrong. I allowed my ego to tell me what I needed, instead of taking inventory of the junk in my heart. I am missing my kindred spirit–the one who was scarred and battered similarly to me. At this new level of distance, I wonder if that person is even still listening. I imagine silence tells us what we need to know faster than any words could ever portray. But the only thing I wish I could change right now, is the fact that I pushed you away.
Winter is heaping an ice cold anxiety upon my will to keep moving forward. Most mornings are hard, and I feel surrounded by a darkness that desires to swallow me up whole. Deep down I know these feelings are temporary–that at any moment the sun will break through my windowpane. The sun has a way of shining its healing light on my pain. Still, I have to acknowledge the amount of energy it takes to be productive and consistent everyday. I wake up and pray. As soon as I feel this weight on my chest, I turn to the only one who can save. My heart is broken but you would never know it from the smile I keep plastered on my face. I realized early on that it does not matter who is gone. What matters is how I pick myself up and how I choose to move along. It matters that I am choosing to fight my addiction to tragic love stories and to patterns that have only led to self-destruction and grief. I alone am responsible for maintaining my integrity. Today, I remembered the names and faces of the ones who came before. How I have lost many things in this life, but nothing that was meant to be mine. Each person was a lesson that I repeated until I learned what I needed to know. Experience is a faithful companion, who fills my waiting heart with hope. But the sun has not come out yet–and there is still so much farther to go.
Every morning I have to make a difficult choice as an adult who does not always make the best decisions. I do not struggle to wake up. It is like I am waiting for the alarm to remind me that I have things to do, so therefore sleep escapes me. I am in a self-reflective and stagnant limbo. Watching myself from the outside and screaming at the destructive patterns that this unrecognizable person is struggling to control. I have known dark places and people who were enticing enough that I forgot to keep my thoughts honorable. Now I am terrified that I am the very darkness that I used to think was my help. I am frozen in a lake of broken dreams, trying to muster up my apathy. The truth is I care too much and not enough about the things that should matter to me. I used to believe that if one part was in its place then the rest would manifest into a beautiful story. But I have to believe there is some beauty to be found in this brokenness even if my ideal is dying.
What do you do when someone refuses to acknowledge your pain?
I am told to walk away from anything that no longer serves me. Because it is certain that a person who is focused on themselves cannot be concerned with what I need. In the past I have been known to compromise my self worth in order to protect another person’s sensitivities. Lying through brittle teeth and losing the ability to face reality. It is easy to fall into routine and drag yourself forward because your heart is afraid of change. We blame others for our foggy vision when we are the only ones responsible for our productiveness everyday. Every single morning I wake up by God’s grace and set my feet on the ground. I get out of the comfort of my bed in total darkness because when I rise, the sun is not yet awake. I push my disappointment and frustration to the back of my mind and sacrifice sulking in my grief because I know there is another human being counting on me. I can be wrecked and broken on the inside, but this does not absolve me of my responsibilities.
It is not about me. It is not about my issues or the fact that I allowed myself to hope for forgiveness and grace. It is not about how no one seems to acknowledge my pain. I am met with silence and blank expressions when it takes two to make the same mistakes. We wander in circles because there are two heads in the wrong place. It should have been easy to commit to the cause and stay on mission in pursuit of the things we want.
But excuses are the only thing consistent when you are running.
Nothing about fighting for a purpose is easy, especially when you have a long and difficult history with someone. We want everything handed to us without putting in the work. We push away the ugly parts of people and retreat when things do not go right. Forgetting that we too have parts that we try to hide from the light. We believe we can choose differently even though our soul is in agony. Fighting against other people’s opinions and ideas about what we should do and who we should be.
I ask questions when the answers are clear–blaring at me in a neon yellow display.
It takes two to work together, but only one to walk away.
I am sure there are people out there who are more tired than me. People who spend their entire days making sure others are okay and have nothing at the end to show for it. I wish it were easier to empathize with another person’s pain. To place my heart and soul knee deep in their situation. I wish I could say I am not selfish and that my intentions are always honorable. But sometimes I can only worry about me.
Today, my wishes and thoughts and plans are interrupted by the reality that other people are going through it too. It is easy to desire forgiveness and reconciliation when you aren’t the one who is hurting. But there is always more to consider in the story.
I’ve mourned disgracefully in the past. Gave up everything I had because I felt like I could not go on without the “thing” I wanted. Even now, I find myself slipping into a cloudy disposition. The more I try to walk forward, the harder it is to see.
The only person fighting is me.
I’ve lived this truth for far too long. Trying to be better and commit and take steps to be transparent. It is not easy for me to give my all. I look for patience and understanding. I seek empathy for this mutual suffering, but all I ever hit is a stubborn brick wall. We could agree to disagree on what it means to fight, but a person who continuously abandons you at your worst is not only selfish–they are a detriment to your life.
Should I, continue to resist this silence?
Is the thing I am pushing for even good for me?
I wish I could figure out all the answers.
But my head is far too heavy.
Knots twist and overlap in my stomach, pushing me to confront the truth. I cannot ignore the reality that damaged interactions lead to disappointment and devastation. But despair is a choice. The longer we hold onto pain, the deeper we fall into despair. The more we resist reconciliation and forgiveness, the further recovery becomes.
I gave up on God once. I was in a terrible situation that I contributed to–and I could not see myself clearly. I rejected God’s help. I relied on the power I thought I had and began to forfeit my purpose and destiny. I knew God was calling out to me. But I could not hear him over my own hurt feelings. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted the pain to fully end. But God wanted something different.
Now, when faced with the same disappointment, I actively resolve to seek God’s face. He alone knows the desires of my heart and just how hard I have worked to be a better version than the person I used to be. The truth however, is that I am not perfect. I make mistakes and cause others grief because I am still in the process of healing. This is no easy task–but the one who has forgiven me knows that I am still hunted by my past.
History sits in our subconscious and refuses to let us go. It wants us to remember that we have failed so many times before. It wants us to think that we will always be hurting. But the truth is the more I seek God, the more I believe that He alone is the one who holds onto me. He alone is my hope and the only person I need to please.
And I will not let go of Him again.
You are beautiful. Created with a purpose although you never had a plan to be anything more than loved. Shattered in ways that no one should ever have to experience. It pains me to admit that you too, have broken others and spread grief through your lack of understanding. Pushed the kindest person away because love was such a foreign concept for you. It always seemed just out of reach. Like a student in a classroom and no one stood up to teach. How can you want love when you do not know where love begins? How do you keep your head up when facing a familiar end?
You just keep going they say. Take it one day at a time. Although, you are so close to permanently losing your mind. But if you want something different. If you pray for something more. Then you have to believe that it is worth fighting for.
Sometimes that fight means it’s just you, keeping the peace. Sometimes the hurt you inflict will force people to leave. This does not mean you are unworthy. It does not mean you will always be alone. But sometimes you have to get comfortable doing the work, on your own.
Never mind they said they would never leave you. Promises are broken everyday. Understand that people who are similarly broken may not believe you can change.
It’s not about what they believe. Some people will give you up in a fight.
It’s about you doing the best that you can, until you finally get it right.