what do I even title this?

I have so many thoughts that I am trying to process right now. I wish they were pretty and coherent and articulate but they aren’t. They are jumbled and messy and sad…but they are honest. I could probably write a whole series on my feelings haha…but I just can’t bring myself to do that right now.

I think there is so much in our human nature that wants to be optimistic even in the face of overwhelming reasons not to be. Is that a good thing? I don’t know. Like, I know it’s a good thing, but sometimes it just doesn’t seem worth it when you get hit with disappointment after disappointment after disappointment. Sometimes it feels like the disappointments hurt more when preceded by pure, unadulterated hope. I think that any time you go into a new relationship, there is a level of hope that is necessary to take off, right? The belief that maybe THIS could be it. This could be the last first date or whatever. I know that for me, there was never any point at which I felt certain that THIS WAS THE ONE, because even though I am optimistic, I am also realistic. I remember a pastor that I used to listen to a lot would always say that the reason that his wife was 'the one' was because he married her and not the other way around. 

 When I met him, it was the easiest yes. There were no red flags, at least not at first—it just seemed like the most natural, albeit fast, progression. I remember telling my friend Scott that it felt good to have found someone who seemed to equally reciprocate my feelings. Reciprocity. That seems to be something that I look for in all of my relationships with people, almost to a fault. I often find that I pull away from people if i can’t reciprocate their friendship. Similarly, I pull away from people when they don’t reciprocate mine. I’m not saying that’s a good or a bad thing, but that’s just how I’m wired. I’m sure it’s purely a self protective measure.

Probably a month into it was when i started noticing subtle changes. Less frequent texts. Reluctance to talk on the phone. Short, curt responses. I chalked it up to the distance. Or maybe he was tired. Or maybe boys will be boys, after all communication was harder for boys, right? And all relationships were hard, right? And insecurity is normal. And this was all just part of the process. And the more insecure I felt, the more I dug my heels in. After all, commitment is more important than feelings, right? Feelings are flighty. My feelings couldn’t be trusted, could they? 

So I ignored them. I focused on the good. The flowers, the cards, the sweet texts. The commitment to fly back and forth to see one another. That was worth focusing on, right?

I’ll spare you the details of what went down the weekend that everything fell apart. But I will say that it became evident, very early on, that it could no longer be said that both parties were all in. The aftermath was rough. Just riding the waves of all the emotions that were a-flowin’. So many thoughts. What would his friends think? What would his parents think? What would my friends think? Why do I care what people think? What do I think? I felt embarrassed that I had been so openly optimistic with telling my friends about him and posting so many pictures of the two of us. I felt like I didn’t understand relationships or people as well as I thought that I did. Then there was part of me that thought, people go through this ALL. THE. TIME. Right? I am not the first person in the world to go through a break up. Who am I to think my situation is special. 

The thought of having to start over from square one just seemed so impossible. I remember telling a friend of mine at one point that if things didn’t work out with him, I don’t think I’ll ever want to date anyone again. That I had invested so much time and money. Dedicated so many precious weekends to spend with him. That if it was all for nothing, that would be it for me. I know that’s really dramatic.

I remember early on in our relationship seeing an article pop up on my FB feed that said “Why We Lose Interest in People Who Show Too Much Interest in Us”. I remember thinking…this is BS. People want to know that someone is interested in them, right? What kind of masochist human being only wants someone who doesn’t want them? And then it popped up again recently over the last few days. I didn’t read it but I started wondering…is that what happened to us? Did I come on too strong? Was I too free with my affection? Should I be different next time? Play my cards closer to my chest? Keep my excitement to myself? Don’t tell a soul I’m in a relationship until there is a ring on my finger? I don’t know.

It’s crazy how many things remind me of him. Walking past the plant section in the store. An airplane flying overhead. The band Phoenix coming on my playlist. In the grand scheme of things, we didn’t even date for very long. But you start to make plans, you know? I’m not talking lifelong commitment plans, but just even little things. Like buying a new suitcase because you anticipate many trips in your future and it might be nice to have one that isn’t falling apart. Or brainstorming fun things to do on future weekends together. Or upcoming anniversary gifts. I think that has been the hardest thing for me—the death of all of those plans.

And it’s hard not to wonder if it was something I did/was. Was it because I hadn’t done much traveling? Maybe it was because I said I would never jump out of an airplane. Or maybe it was because I didn’t like chocolate. Or that I was literally always cold. You start to think about all these weird qualities that you have that you thought were just quirks and wonder if they were deal breakers for someone. And it’s hard not to want to hide those things in the future.

A friend asked me today if I had prayed about it. LOL. I wanted to say yes. The truth is that every time I have wanted to talk to God about it, I felt like I was hitting a wall. So I asked God what that wall was, and God revealed that the wall was a thought that I was believing about him, something that I’ve struggled with for a long time. God doesn’t want me to find someone. He wants me to be single forever to teach me some lesson. You know the parent that says to their child “I know you don’t like it, but it’s for your own good”. That’s how I feel. So it’s hard to pray about it, even though I know I should. So that’s where I am at. I know I have close friends and family who are lifting me up and I am thankful for that. I think that’s why it’s part of God’s plan for his kids to be in community—so when we are unable to support ourselves, we can lean on one another and rely on them to intercede on our behalf, much like Jesus does for us. 

So there it is! Brokenhearted, for sure. But trusting that I am on the mend and that each day it will hurt less and less. And that God will somehow use this to propel me in to deeper joy and intimacy with Him in this season.