and the world looks a lot different. On the surface, it doesn't look like much has changed. I remain a single twenty year old whose plans for the summer involve having no work prospects and far too much Netflix.
I have friends going to Hawaii, Ohio, Denver, Ethiopia, East Asia, and I will be spending my time in central Kentucky, avoiding the consistent droning of a television. I get to remain in campus housing for another two weeks. Pros: Silence, except for the sound of an absent roommate's fish tank. Clean space. Privacy. Locks on my bedroom door. Freedom to do what I want without explaining what I want. Being able to cook what I'd like to eat when I'm hungry. Controlling my own thermostat set at a perfectly frosty 68 degrees. Having a dishwasher. Cons: Silence- roommates are gone, and I am in a four-bedroom apartment by myself. I have far too little to do and I can't believe I'm going to write this, but at least on some level, idle minds are the devil's playground. My mind can focus on way too many things I can't control when I'm alone. One particularly problematic situation I no longer have any control over is this romance business. If you're at all familiar with my last few posts that are romantic in nature, you know I've been stuck on this guy who I met three years ago for quite a while. However, because I dislike emotion so greatly, I decided to ignore this affection for some time, allowing it to grow like a cancer or fester like an open wound. That imagery was great, right? I don't mean to call him cancer. He isn't bad for my health, although the stress of said feelings did lead me to quite a few nights running on an elliptical until I wanted to fall over. Anyway, I decided (with the help of a fabulous accountability partner) that I needed to woman up and be open with my stupid emotions so I could deal with this business. So I told him about most of my feelings while accidentally comparing him to a butterfly. He called me tenacious like a liger, so it all worked out in the end, though. The conversation was much less awkward than I anticipated. Neither of us ran in the opposite direction so that was fairly successful. When I asked for some direction about his feelings, though, all I got was a big question mark. There's another girl who he's been playing the will-we-or-won't-we game with for four and a half years. (Let me point out that once he said that I was immensely grateful I had taken the admonition to share my feelings.) He wasn't sure if he would-or-wouldn't. So I found out where that mess left him, but not where it left me. I walked on clouds for the next two or three days, floating in the ocean that is relief, pats on the back, and emotional adulthood. I was very satisfied with the way I handled the situation. That hasn't changed, obviously, but now a week post-confession, I find myself wallowing in uncertainty. I am not confused. I just don't know. Few things bother me more. I've considered outlets for this frustration: writing about the incident, writing indirectly about the incident through angry (or romantic) short stories, making his would-be family in The Sims 3 then killing the other girl while I swoop in to save the day (my accountability partner suggested this would be unwise), rear ending things with my car for fun, slaughtering a chicken with my bare hands, learning to crochet, eating coffee ice cream, crying into my pillow, and wearing lipstick to sleep. I can honestly say I've done five and a half of those things. I'll let you guess which ones. I keep going over and over in my mind about what I'm supposed to do. Should I text him? Should I leave him alone to stew about his feelings? Will stewing make him have feelings for me? Will my feelings for him provoke him to take action on his feelings for her, whatever they may be? Should I leave lovelorn voicemails on his cell while praying he doesn't answer his phone? Should I find his address and show up at his house? Throw rocks at his window? Hold a boombox above my head while playing "Check Yes or No" by George Strait? And because I have nothing to do, it's like I'm on a merry-go-round that never stops with "he will" on one side and "he won't" on the other and it's spinning so fast I can't even tell which one he's walking toward. I feel like that was a good metaphor. My accountability partner told me that the hardest part of this would be once I took my hands off it. I thought it would be when I told him. I almost backed out. But I can't back out of this part. So I will sit in my lonely apartment waiting for him to decide, to act, to tell me and this other girl if he has feelings or one of us or both of us or neither of us. This is pretty much what I've wanted for a year now. I've known I wanted this for a year now. I just want more resolution, and there isn't anything left for me to say to get it. Trusting God is hard. It's uncomfortable. I think I put this off so long because on some level I knew it would be so uncomfortable. It's like I'm sitting on a wooden bench alone outside the principal's office waiting to hear if it's me or someone else who gets to go in new directions. I guess this is what happens when you pray for patience.
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AuthorTwenty-something kind-of-adult woman trying to navigate her future, her calling, and her God. Archives
August 2017
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