I Should Have Just Listened to Solomon

As it approaches the one-year-to-the-day mark on which my first "dating relationship" ended, I'm thinking a bit more about that whole thing.  Because of reasons, I had basically blocked out the entire relationship and tucked those memories away in a dark box in the back of the dusty closet in my brain, hoping never to dwell on them again.  However, I'm gradually finding that to truly let go of things, thoughts have to be thought and feelings have to be felt, no matter how much one would prefer to suppress and ignore them.

I felt the feelings and thought the thoughts, and it lead me to contemplate how I have viewed dating in the past.  Most importantly, I have realized how realized how much I have allowed myself to be disrespected, and how I will never, never ever, settle. Never again.

When I was about thirteen, I was the chubby homeschooler that just wanted to be normal. From all that I had witnessed on Disney Channel TV and in youth group and girl scouts, it was "normal" for girls to be dating at my age.  It was normal for twelve year olds to be having their first kisses and for 8th graders to bounce from boyfriend to boyfriend every other week.  And so, to conform to the name of normality, I wanted so horribly to have a boyfriend...or just a boy to notice me.  Unfortunately, when you're an overweight 8th grader who doesn't go to public school and hasn't figured out makeup or clothes or hair or anything else, that's much easier said than done.

Because I was a little skank   totally stupid   idiotic and naive   innocent and misinformed by the ways of my peers, I chased after a boy.  Long story short, I lost weight, I got prettier, he strung me along and used me and had a great ole time kissing me and hugging me and telling me I meant something to him before I finally woke up and realized that I was nothing to him.  He was him, I was me, and there were other girls.  It tore me apart for quite a while, but I moved on.

Little crushes came and went - the worst of all on a boy from church that I Facebook-messaged relentlessly, because my friend told me it would "get his attention"! I'm quite sure it did. It took me far, far too long to realize that he was ignoring me. Wow, go figure.

Finally, I found who I thought was the perfect guy - he had a good sense of humor, was smart and serious about his studies, had great career aspirations, admirable character, always looked out for his mother and sister, greatly cared about his family, was polite and kind and talkative, and - so I thought - treated me well.  It lasted a while, then degenerated, then dissipated.  Of course, since it ended, I've told myself that it was my own fault.  I didn't see the signs and I was stupid for trusting him.

I've come to find that I only thought I loved him so much because I thought, this is as good as it will get.  Before meeting him, I never believed that any boy would think I was pretty or care for me the way he did (or the way I thought he did.) I never believed that I was worthy of love, that it was possible for me to be loved -- I thought, this must be the boy God made for me, because it's impossible that there will be anyone else.

Truth be told, I wasn't treated well.  He cancelled plans a lot, ditched me for his family (which, although should happen from time to time, should not have happened as often as it did), told me I was stupid and always acted smarter than me, pushed me into going farther physically than I wanted to (then blamed me and told his friends "all she ever wanted to do was make out!" after we broke up), failed to be there for me when I needed him most, and - above all - lied to me utterly, wholly, and completely for the duration of our entire relationship.
And of course, it was pinned on me! Me! "Do you know how much I love you? How much I want you to accept me for who I am?" yada yada yada, enabling enabling enabling, lies lies and B.S.
I'm pretty sure that relationship waded into the waters of emotional abuse, and I'm realizing that now.

Dr. McSteamy 

And then, of course, as a "rebound" from this one, I allowed a "Dr. McSteamy" to enter my life. *Cue fellow Grey's Anatomy fans swooning*  Dr. Mark Sloan "McSteamy" essentially dates a lot of women and makes them all feel special when he really just wants One Thing (And I'm guessing it's not the same One Thing that One Direction was singing about.) ... That's right.  THAT thing.

Luckily, things didn't get very far, but it did affect me. I thought, why can't boys just be nice? 

            











Looking back on all of the instances that I was used, manipulated, strung-along, ignored, and came to believe that I was totally ugly, invaluable, and worthless in the eyes of the male sex - Why did I sit there and take it? Why wasn't I strong, why didn't I demand respect? Above all ... Why did I care?

Image credit: fueldabook.com

I care because, as humans, we're delicate and desire to be loved - but we need to allow God to fill that hole, so that we know that He will give us the right person at the right time.  Sadly, for the first few years of my adolescent and teen life, I neglected one of Solomon's most striking proverbs:  "Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." Proverbs 4:23



Only just recently have I come to realize that boys aren't all greedy, hormonal parasites.  This realization has finally settled in my heart, thanks to some of my best friends, who are, in fact, male.
God has blessed me with good friends -- like my friend Christopher, whom I've known since Freshman year.  We were sitting outside, chatting at a cookout once, when I said: "You know, sometimes I just feel like I need to do something scandalous.  So that I feel like a regular person."
But he shook his head and assured me: "You really don't need to do that.  Plenty of people like you just the way you are, you're cool."

When I went to the summer program, I met plenty of boys who just wanted to talk to me - not use me, not take advantage of me, not ignore me like some annoying pet or inanimate object - just talk and get to know me, to appreciate me as a person.  One boy that I had hardly talked to brought me dessert, and then was willing to go and inquire if it contained any nuts after I had mentioned that I was allergic.  He did this just out of the sake of being kind, and out of being a gentleman.

My friend Francis (HOLLAAAA SUCH SHOUTOUT WOW) who has the same name as the Pope, has further helped me to realize that not all guys are the enemy; he has threatened to beat up guys who treat me improperly, and encourages me to stand up for myself...and doesn't blackmail me with all the embarrassing selfies and childhood photos I've shared with him.  Thanks, man.

If there are boys treat me properly in friendship, then there are boys who will treat me properly in a dating relationship, whether it come about suddenly, or blossoms from a friendship. (whoa, no pressure my bros.)
I'm not going to allow myself to be treated poorly anymore.  I'm coming to realize that I don't deserve it; I deserve to be treated well, and so I will demand respect for myself.  Most importantly, I need to remember that good things await; my past experiences do not define me.  So long as I move forward, fill that hole in my heart with God and the friendships He has blessed me with, I will come to understand the true meaning of love, and from there, meet the right person for me...In God's time, not mine.

Image credit: newlife.id.au

That's it. This is rock bottom.

I have a friend who is a sophomore.  She barely turned 16; since she was 14, she has wanted to go to Oxford University, and has stressed over grades since 7th grade.  She has a 4.5 GPA or something amazing like that, but she is stressed.  She cries over low A's out of fear that she won't be able to achieve her dreams.

I have a friend who is in the same grade as me.  Her parents are pressuring her to choose a college; but she isn't ready. She wants to enjoy life.  She wants to slow down, to figure things out.  But no: Scholarships come straight out of high school, you're less likely to go to college if you wait a year. And so she cries on my shoulder out of fear of the future, and will make an impulse decision just for the sake of progress.

I have a friend who graduated early. She got a scholarship and went to college and it was the worst year of her life.  She had just learned to drive; she was younger than I am now.  And she started a major in biochemistry and it was too hard and she lost her scholarship at no fault of her own.

The world is broken.
Everyone needs to slow. The hell. Down.

I'm sick of everyone feeling as if the world will fall apart if they don't know what to do with their lives when they first come out of the womb.  Frankly, that's the government's goal: scare us into submission.  Scare us into a "successful" occupation just so that we can earn money to support ourselves, when in reality, they're merely training a workforce to carry on the economy and make this country "great."

America the beautiful everybody.
The land of the free and the home of the stressed, overworked, and depressed.

Every one of these people feels responsible for their "failures" when really, the problem is not with them. The problem is with this "system" that is driving us into debt, drowning us, suffocating us, keeping us from being the people we were truly meant to be.
Stressing us to "live up to our full potential" when we never have the time to discover it.

Retaliate. Go against the grain. They don't define you.

Personality

My dearest friend Nikki has peaked my interest in personality types.  She had told me that discovering that she was an INTJ really improved the way she looked at life, and helped her to understand herself more fully.  So, I decided to give a little more thought to my own personality type.

After taking several quizzes and reading about each of the personality traits and what they mean, I've discovered that I am an INFJ.  Introverted, intuitive, feeling, and judging.  This seems about right.
Although I think there are no absolutes and it's hard to fit EXACTLY with ALL the traits of a given personality type (certain situations may call you to be a sensor, for instance, when normally you would be intuitive; or a perceiver as opposed to a judger, a thinker as opposed to a feeler, etc.)
Knowing that I'm an INFJ has helped me to understand a little more why I react to certain situations in certain ways, why I tend to be very sensitive and compassionate (and yet can't STAND touchy-feely things), why I love to be with people but need the time to process it, why I'm always looking deeper and not merely at the surface, etc.

My most important discovery is that I am a feeler.  I've always been ashamed of showing emotions and feeling emotions and allowing emotion to influence my reactions and decisions...but now, understanding that feeling is just a part of my personality is helping me to accept this.
I used to believe that if you were a feeler, you were weak and vulnerable.  In a sense, that is true if you allow your emotions to be manipulated.  But on the contrary, when you are a feeler, you have to develop a hard outer shell.  There are times when you do have to contain your emotions, times when you have to push them aside, times when you have to deal with emotional situations.  And when you are a feeler, this is hard.  I still struggle with the aftermaths of feelings from things that happened over a year ago -- but you know what? Dealing with feelings when you are a feeler makes you a badass. It's not easy, and it requires temperance and warrior-like strength.
There are some times when something will happen - we'll watch a sad movie in youth group, someone snaps at me, I face a disappointment - and I have to hold it in.  And I do.  Until I get home.  Then I sit on my floor and cry for a bit, wipe off my face, and move on.  It's easy for me to say, "Wow, I'm such a wimp.  I need to learn to not feel as much," when in reality, I'm doing all that a feeler can do: wait to express their feelings at the appropriate time.  And it's difficult!

Second to realizing that I'm not a wimp is the fact that closure is imperative.  Whenever I get in an argument or have a falling-out with someone, I never feel completely secure until I have forgiven them and/or reconciled with them in some way.  Even if the friendship is not restored, just to know that they don't hate me and to let them know that I still care for them as a fellow child of God means the world to me.  I believe that has something to do with the mix of feeling/judging in my personality, but I'm not entirely sure.

The thing with desiring closure is that, sometimes, I have to risk my feelings for the sake of closure.  But I'm willing to do so.  Whether it's striking up a conversation with a guy I'm attracted to, sending the first message to an ex after a while just to make sure their life is going alright, approaching a friend to apologize when I've wronged them; these instances require putting my feelings on the line.  Perhaps they don't have to, but with my feeling personality, it basically feels like I'm setting my heart on the track in front of a train.  The other person is the train, and they have the opportunity to run over my heart if they wish (whether they realize it or not.)
Maybe it doesn't have to be this way, and I need to somehow figure out a way to separate the feeling part of my personality at times.  But for now, if I can embrace it, it's a step in the right direction.

What's your personality type?

A Post About Everything and Nothing

As I sit here attempting to edit my super-intense paper and trying to decide whether or not the Constitution should have been ratified (as anti-patriotic as that sounds, it's really not), my thoughts are jumbled and bouncing all over the place.  And so, I shall come and type and attempt to de-jumble them, in hopes of procuring a decent blog post.
Is procuring the right word?

Isn't it odd how certain words that you only hear once in a while sometimes pop back into your head, and you think, "wow, I would sound really educated if I were to utilize that word!" But then you kind of try too hard and end up sounding uneducated because you didn't use it correctly?
Yeah.
It's like that t-shirt that says: "Sometimes I use big words so as to sound photosynthesis." That's me.

This little stretch between Thanksgiving and Christmas is a struggle, because although I know that I positively adore learning and enjoy reading and studying, trying to push through the assignments with the knowledge that, in two weeks, I can lay on my bed and crochet and watch endless episodes of Grey's Anatomy to my heart's content...yeah i lost where that sentence was going.
In conclusion, it's difficult.
I like to be deep and read stuff.  On Thanksgiving I picked up my copy of Greek Tragedies I from the TAC Summer Program and re-read Oedipus Rex, then rambled passionately to my mom about fate and prophecy over some delicious appetizers...Namely, pretzels, herb chips, and jalapeno cream cheese, because we're classy.

Jalepeno cream cheese is really good.  I don't know whether it comes from living in the Southwest where we're heavily influenced by the hispanic culture, whether it's something to do with the desert heat, or whether I inherited my dad's love for spicy food, but I love jalapenos. Jalapeño cream cheese...Jalapeños in sandwiches...Jalapeño mac and cheese... Mmm. Jalapeños.

I wonder how chopped jalapeños would be in scrambled eggs.. I bet they're good.

See, I have a thing for scrambled eggs.  They're my go-too food for when I want something that's tasty and relatively healthy.  They're just so delicious and light and fluffy and good with cheese and good with basically whatever you want to put in them.  I always make them with salt, crushed red pepper flake, onion and garlic powder, and sometimes a bit of paprika.  Then with a slice of whole-wheat toast and fresh fruit.. mm-mm-mmm!

The first month in to my first and only dating relationship, I found out that he (my ex) didn't like scrambled eggs.  That was the moment our relationship started going downhill. I knew he wasn't for me.  I wish I was kidding.
It lasted a few more months but when it ended I was like: "It was the Scrambled Eggs. I knew it."
From now on, one of the first questions on my first date with future potential husbands will be "Do you like scrambled eggs?" (It will come after 'Are you Catholic?' but before 'Do you enjoy intellectual discussion?')

I mean, scrambled eggs weren't the reason the relationship ended...or were they? Were the scrambled eggs a metaphor for the scrambled eggs in our young sixteen-year-old-hormonal brains? My eggs were scrambled.  His eggs were most certainly scrambled.
Heh. Scrambled eggs.

Scrambled eggs.
"Good in the stomach, bad in the brain."

I wonder how many times I've typed "eggs" in this post.

I am equally excited and nervous to go to college, primarily for the reason that's apparent here; although I surely enjoy deep discussions and intellectual endeavours, I'm also a sucker for good, light fun.  I like puns.  And, of course, scrambled eggs, but that's besides the point right now.  The college I'm going to will require a lot of seriousness about studies, which I know I'm capable of, and I know I have the potential to do well...But I also want to have fun! I think I will. I'm sure I will.

Sometimes I wonder why people don't take Thomas Aquinas seriously.  Because in reality, we try to figure out life, determine the truths about the world, and discover our purpose.  But Thomas Aquinas has already done that! Why reinvent the wheel?! We all take Aristotle seriously.  Why don't we take Aquinas seriously?

Society doesn't really think about Aquinas as a great philosopher.  They see him as another crazy church theologian.  But theology is truth, it's not crazy!
Although I have mixed feelings about that God's not Dead movie, my favorite part was when he says, "admitting the existence of God is not committing intellectual suicide." Because it's not!

Admitting the existence of God and following the Church is emotionally, spiritually, AND intellectually invigorating!

Do you ever get that feeling where you're driving in the car or making dinner or going for a walk or studying, then all of a sudden something pops into your head.  You have a thought, a moment of enlightenment, and your whole body just tingles and your heart feels light.  I keep getting that off and on.  It used to only happen once in a while, but now that I'm doing more studying, it seems to happen once or twice a week.  It's invigorating! I think it's little moments of the Beatific Vision on earth, which is pretty darn cool.

People in youth group think I'm crazy.

I think the most fulfilling thing one can do on earth is give to another person.  I absolutely adore making and giving gifts -- it's my favorite part of Christmas!

Do you ever look at your gifts and talents and feel like you have potential, but get scared because you don't know what to do with it? I do. Every day.  I know that I have a jumble of stuff I like, a variety of stuff I'm good at, but they all seem unrelated, and very few of them give me great joy.
There's so much pressure to figure out what you want to do at such a young age and it's overwhelming.  My mom didn't discover how much she adored teaching until she was in her 40's, and now she loves it - she teaches CCD and does tutoring in addition to teaching my brother and me.
She was talking to me the other day and said, "how much more good could I have done if I had realized this sooner?"
Then I thought of Oedipus Rex.
Fate.
Fate is not predestination, because predestination is not a thing.  But fate ... it was always going to happen because it would.  It happened because it did. Est quid est. It is what it is. 

Sometimes when I get distracted from school, I look out the window and it feels like my soul has been torn open and all of its contents are spilling out into the world around me.  I get a funny feeling in my stomach as I think of everyone who has hurt me or betrayed me in some way; yet, I don't harbor the anger at them.  It's more the frustration that I've allowed myself to be torn open.  It's not a good feeling...but it always goes away.
"Above all else, guard your heart..."

If I had to define myself with a meme, it would be the Socially Awkward Penguin meme:

Well, I think that's about it. I should get back to my paper now.  I got some of my thoughts out and now my eggs are less scrambled.

Why don't people know how to talk?

For years, I've usually assumed that people don't want to talk to me because I'm a socially awkward homeschool freak with nothing to offer.  Finally, I've realized that this is not the case, by any means. Even though I'm the one who is apparently *whispers* socially challenged, my social skills are really not the problem.

Of course, maybe I am out of "the norm." But the norm is apparently being good at socializing, in which case chocolate has become vanilla, up has become down, left has become right, and I have become six feet tall.

Time and time again, I have been invited to parties. (Wow! Huh. How about that. I actually leave the house, what a gosh-darned miracle.) Typically, being an introverted person, I prefer small groups of people, but I am willing to venture out of that comfort zone from time to time.
"Why aren't you talking? Poor Rebecca, you don't know anyone! It must be hard to get out when you're homeschooled."

Um, no.

Actually, it's not that hard because I've been invited to this party.  I'm not talking because I don't know anyone.  I don't know anyone because you haven't introduced me.

Like, I honestly don't get people's problem.

How to introduce a person to another person:
"By the way, this is my friend, Becca. Becca, this is Bob." 

Wow!
Who ever thought it could be so easy? 

It's awkward to just start talking, it's awkward to introduce myself, it's awkward for me to not talk.  Honestly, it's all labeled as awkward because I'm the different one, I'm the outsider.  I really don't think anyone has taken the time to realize: oh, hey. Maybe I'm the one who isn't exercising proper social etiquette.

And of course I don't expect it to be like, "Miss Oakes, this is Mr. Brown.  Mr. Brown enjoys going to the opera, reading C.S. Lewis, and taking long walks on the beach.  He attended a wine tasting last Thursday and owns his own law firm."
Well I mean at this point I would marry Mr. Brown.
But it doesn't even need to be that formal.

"Yo this is Bob, he plays the guitar and likes Mayday Parade -- you do, too, don't you, Becca?"
wow.
a conversation starter given by a mutual friend

such unheard of
so difficult
wow~

Time and time again, I've been in small groups of people, when those small groups run into other people from their schools.  And that's fine, I'm totally down for talking to new people.  But I mean, it's sometimes helpful if I can be introduced.

I can recount numerous times when I have come out of my shell to introduce myself and begin a conversation, to which I have been met with odd looks and people staring at me like I'm a unicorn. (Or maybe a walking troll doll. It's less "wow so majestic" and more "why the hell is that midget potato talking to me?")

It's not like I walk up to random people and go: "Hi my name is Becca I am a Catholic homeschooler who reads all the time, eats a lot of cookies, anD LOvES JESUS!!!!!1!!/!~! Oh also i went to the hills of California to read books and pray for two weeks this summer and IT WAS AWESOME"
No.
It's more like:
"Hi, I'm Rebecca! I think I've seen you guys in those plays at your high school. I really liked the musical last spring!"

*cricket*
.... *cricket* 
..... "um....thanks?" 

Either my previous sentiment gives the vibe of WEIRDO ALERT, or people genuinely do not know how to talk to new people.

Allow the sheltered homeschooler to paint you a picture.

Me: ... I really liked the musical last spring!
Them: Wow, thanks! It was a really fun show to do.
Me: It looked like a lot of fun. Who did you play again?
Them: Oh, I played the brother.
Me: That's right! That part had some GREAT one-liners!
Them: Yeah, it was so funny! Do you do any acting?
Me: Yeah, a little! I used to take classes at . . .
(le conversation continues)

Congratulations! You have made a new friend! *applause, applause*


People have trouble venturing out of their circles.  I really have no circles, I just traverse amongst them on the grand search for a circle in which I may belong.  Because of that, I actually know a wider variety of people, I just don't have a tight circle of people.  Somehow, this makes me awkward.

Additionally, the fact that I like to have conversations is apparently quite out of the ordinary.
The fact that I don't like to walk up to a group of teenagers and go:

"so like yeah it's so weird when like people hold their phone like that cause it's like yeah i don't know it's like so weird like ugh wtf like i never hold my phone like that i mean like it's so dumb i always hold my phone like this but never like that it's just so effin' weird like *swear swear swear* yeah" 
And actual representation of a conversation I witnessed last night.

somehow the fact that I don't do this makes me socially inept?!?!?!?!?!!? and an aWKwaRD Lon3R lol wow

I don't mean that every conversation has to be about Plato or Socrates or Mozart (frankly, I would go insane.) But I like to talk about more than just the way people hold their phones and isn't it weird when people post stuff like that on twitter and hey i'm not actually really interested in talking to you, let me just put you in my phone so I can text you when I'm bored and you can send me YouTube videos that I haven't already seen four times.

I like to talk about music, activities, books, movies, TV shows, clothes, sports, traveling, the weather, food, candy, bands, school, coffee, history, math, work, anything really.

I can and will gladly talk about something!

What I have a problem with is talking about nothing.

Something More.

Honestly, I sometimes question my Faith.
I have received an education that has allowed me to see how it is logical that God exists, and that is logical that the Catholic Church is true.
Still, sometimes I have to think about it a bit on my own.

Even when I'm not reasoning my way to it, it feels like the Universe screams of God's existence.

I really can't explain it; but there's just so much to it.  There's so much to everything.  The universe is of incomprehensible magnitude; atoms are incomprehensibly small.  The amount of things in the world is incomprehensible.
There are a lot of things that are nearly impossible to comprehend.
Somehow, these things exist, and somehow, humankind is able to study them and understand them, use them to his advantage, and work with them.

Existence is immensely broad and rather overwhelming.

It seems that we have everything we should require, as citizens of this fine little speck, propelling its way around the sun at a lot of miles per hour in a lot of miles circumference continually, repeatedly, several bajillion times.

If we have perceived all there is to perceive, what more is there to desire?  If someone has never eaten chocolate, nor knows what chocolate is, can they crave it? If chocolate did not exist, could you desire it? Would it even be possible?

I've never had a million dollars. . . but I desire a million dollars.  I have never had a million dollars to miss possessing, and yet a million dollars sounds like a worthwhile thing to have.

What makes it possible for me to understand what having a million dollars means?  I can see the effects of those who have been in possession of such a sum of money. I can see their situation, and understand it; relating the cause (the money) with the effect (financial security...and fancy cars.)

I desire the effect, and I know the cause, even though I have never possessed it.
Somehow, my intellect works outside the realms of matter to allow me to understand this.
Why do we desire happiness if we have never been in complete, true possession of it?

It must exist, out there, somewhere.  And somehow, we're able to imagine it, but we can't quite grasp it.  It's just outside the realm of tangibility.

I believe that we can know these things because our souls are spiritual, and that there is a spiritual God who made it like this.

So when I think to myself, "there must be more than this," it's because there is.

Timoris

When I was little, I was terrified of physical pain; terrified to the point of missing out on memorable experiences.  I was so scared of getting hurt that I didn't want to learn to ride a bike, I never got past level one of gymnastics, I never tried the monkey bars at the playground, and I never swung too high.  I never climbed up to high places.  Certainly, I was not a risk taker.

Since then, I've grown past my fear of getting hurt.  I climb up on a rickety bar stool that's as high as my waist to get things off the top shelf in my closet; my legs harbor multiple battle wounds from hiking and running around outside.  I've almost fallen into the fish pond (twice), I've scraped myself and given myself splinters from hopping over the fence.  Frankly, the term: "You might fall and break your arm!" Doesn't scare me anymore. Sure, I might fall, and I might break my arm. If that happens, it will hurt.

Obviously, it's necessary to assess risks by their magnitude and likelihood.  Being free of fear does not mean one should advocate risky behavior; however, being free of fear means embracing the risks one chooses to take, regardless of the possible consequences.

The reality of physical pain is one which I have had experience with; I have realized that the risks outweigh the consequences.  Many good times have been had hiking and playing sports, things which I would have never attempted several years ago, even though they have resulted in scrapes, twisted ankles, headaches and bruises. Although I am no longer afraid of scraping my knee or breaking a bone, my anxieties have manifested themselves in numerous other ways.

Somehow, emotional pain and physical pain share little in common; for they are both types of pain, they far from synonymous.  It seems that one lies at the surface, while the other radiates from within.  One is caused by something on the outside, while the other is caused by allowing something inside that tore you apart.

Physical pain can be caused by disease, parasites, viruses; emotional pain is caused by love.

Unlike my experiences with physical pain, my experiences with emotional pain have not yet healed so as to provide me with the insight to objectively assess my risks.  I have never taken a risk that was worth it.  The risks which I have taken have torn me apart.

Emotionally, spiritually, I have been manipulated.  In the naivety of youth, I have not guarded my heart, and have been used.  My affections were experimental, and my love was an object.  I have learned that whenever there is love, there will be loss; for all that we know is contingent.

When you love, whether you are loving a pet, a parent, a friend, or a spouse, you take a risk.  You risk the hurt, the pain, the feeling of your very insides collapsing in on themselves.  You risk your very being, your very existence crying out in agony at the loss.  Perhaps you will be hurt by them -- or worse, you will be maimed by the separation from them.  Not separation merely in body, but in death.

Worst of all is the separation in spirit.  When someone you love is self-destructing, when you watch as they rip apart their very soul.  Their heart is as broken as yours, if not even more so, but you know that it is not in your power to help them.  All you can do is pray, guide, and understand.  Understanding is the hardest.

So far, I've taken a lot of risks that weren't worth taking.  I've seen others hurt from their gambles, and I've seen the hearts and souls of those I love ripped apart.  I just don't see how love is a risk worth taking.

And yet...
My brother's laughter,
The chirping birds,
My grandma's slippers shuffling across the tile,
My grandfather humming,
The hugs from my friends,
The taste of chocolate chip cookies,
The sound of my father's car pulling in the driveway when he comes home from work
These are all things loved,
And since they are contingent, they will all pass away.
But they are things that I would never wish away.

In some cases, eliminating the effect means eliminating the cause; love is one of those cases. By wishing away the pain, you wish away the love.  Life without love is empty.

Take your risks, but take them wisely;
For the giggles of my brother are not mocking,
The song of the birds will not betray me,
My grandma has only care and affection,
My grandfather's wisdom has since passed on,
The hugs from my friends lift my spirits but do not invade my soul,
Chocolate chips have no ill will...


Though my knees are accustomed to bruising and my body has grown strong, my heart has not yet healed so as to be empowered by loss.  I hope that one day very soon, I will be able to believe that love is worthwhile.
I'm still assessing the risk.

"Above all else, guard your heart; for all that you do flows from it." 

Proverbs 4:23