I want to be in love.  Real, true, deep, God-inspired love.  I want a man to love.  I want a man to cherish and hold and care for.  I want someone who will be vulnerable enough to let me love him, and honest enough to love me back.

When he is sick, I want to bring him soup and movies, and hold him close. I want to tend to his every need, and care for his every hurt. I want him to let his guard down and allow himself to be taken care of, because he knows I am his safe person.

When he has had a hard day at work, I want to run him a hot shower and make him his favorite meal. I want to give him a back massage to help him relieve the stress. I want to slowly and passionately make love to him to remind him of his value to me. Then I want to snuggle into his arms and let him protect me, just to remind him of his strength and help him feel powerful again.

I want a partner for adventures. I want someone that makes going grocery shopping feel like a date, simply because I get to spend time with him. I want to hold hands and giggle and try new things.

I want a best friend through the good and the bad. I want to celebrate the good times, and lean on each other during the struggles. I want to do my best to love him like Jesus, and I want a man who will gently remind me when I fall short of that goal.

I want honesty and transparency. I don't want to be left guessing. I want him to tell me when he is mad, hurt, or ready to give up. I want to be able to trust that every kiss he gives me is genuine. I want to know that when he tells me he loves, he is being true. I can only hope that he loves me enough to want to give me all these things, too.

I hope he wants to treasure me. I hope he thinks I am worth fighting for. I hope he wants to surprise me with flowers, for no reason other than love. I hope he will hold me close and tell me I am safe with him. I hope he really, truly, deeply loves me.

So, this past week a lot of people have asked me how I feel about you.  Am I going to wait for you?  Do I still want to be with you?  Are you really worth it?

I have struggled with those questions all week.  My answer has been here, there and everywhere.  To be honest I just couldn't figure out what exactly I was feeling.

One comment my dad made really stood out to me.  He suggested that maybe you aren't worthy of my love.  That rubbed me the wrong way.  It didn't make me angry or anything - it just didn't sit right.

The phrase "worthy of love" contradicts something inside of me.  In fact, it contradicts something foundational in my faith.  I fully know that I am not worthy of love. But Jesus Christ died for me.  My Father in heaven loves me so much that he sent his only Son to die for me.  He didn't do that because I am worthy.  His actions don't reflect anything about me.  They completely reflect Him.  Romans 5:8 is the verse that tells us that God shows his love for us in that he sent his Son while we were sinners.

Now, I told my Dad this thought of mine.  I pointed out that God doesn't love me because I am worthy.  So why should my love for Kyle be contingent upon his "worthiness"?  He replied that God is perfect, and he loves everyone.  I am not God.  Spending my life with you, Kyle, and marrying you, and staying by you - those are all choices I am free to make.  I have to determine if you are worthy of that choice.  At that point, I dropped the conversation because I had more thinking to do.

Here I am now, a few days later.  And here is the problem.  Even though we never got officially married, I chose you a long time ago.  For a long time now I have confidently planned on spending the rest of my life with you.  I gave everything to you - emotionally and physically.  I didn't do that out of reckless disregard for God's commands.  I did that because that was how committed I was to you.  I never got a ring, and I never wore a white dress, and we didn't have witnesses, but in my heart I was married to you.

In the Bible, we are given the metaphor of the Church being the bride of Christ.  Throughout scripture the imagery of a marriage is used to describe the love of Christ.  Therefore, from what I understand, it is the role of a wife to strive to love her husband the way Christ loves the Church.  That includes faithfully following and pursuing and loving despite all circumstances.  Jesus never gives up on us.  He doesn't give up when we turn away from Him.  He doesn't hold grudges when we leave Him.  He doesn't keep score of wrongs.  Even when we hurt him by abandoning Him, he doesn't stop loving us.  He is eternally committed to us.

So, here is where I am at.  I could choose to turn away.  You have deeply hurt me.  You made me feel abandoned and uncared for.  You broke my trust.  But thats not what I want.  And thats not how Jesus loves.  Keep in mind, none of this is meant to say that you aren't worthy.  In my opinion, you still are worthy.  I am just trying to say that the idea of being worthy of love isn't fair.

Maybe, in the end, I will have no choice.  If you truly don't love me anymore, then I will have to move on.  If you don't want to be committed to me, I will have to move on.  If you don't choose me back, I will have to move on.  But if there is any part of you that is still willing to fight for our relationship, I am on board.

I realize how vulnerable this makes me.  I am, one more time, holding my heart out to you.  I am bearing my soul to you and hoping you want to love me back.  I recognize that this could just cause me more pain.  But I read somewhere that the key to a lasting relationship is to never be afraid to be the one who loves more.  So that's what I am striving towards.

I feel so incredibly angry at you.  So angry.  I want to shake you and ask if you realize what you are doing.  Do you realize that you are actively losing me? Do you even care?

I'm sorry that you are sick.  But do you realize that every minute you lie there I am slipping through your fingers?  Where is your urgency?  Are you willing to fight for me?  Maybe not.  Maybe its not that I am slipping through your fingers; maybe you are just letting me go.

The other night I got drunk.  While Kyle and I had immense amounts of fun, perhaps the most noteworthy parts of the experience were the things I did, said, and thought that I wouldn't normally.  I sang for Kyle.  I sang him Tomorrow Will Be Kinder and Slow Dancing in a Burning Room and Heartbreak Warfare, and after he fell asleep I kept singing and sang Sober and Maybe and that one song of Ben's.  I would never sing like that for him if I wasn't drunk.  I didn't realize I am usually so inhibited.  Something about that is very sad.

I also told Kyle something that I keep thinking about.  I told him that deep down I feel like I have a story to tell or a song to sing or something to give the world.  I have a desire to express myself and lay it out there for everyone to experience.  I have this longing to create something to reflect how I feel inside- as if the external reflection of my feelings somehow momentarily relieves my internal burden.

I have this feeling like I am significant.  Its as though I expect to die young or to become someone noteworthy or do something extraordinary.  But then I wonder if that voice is just my self-absorbed youth clinging on, begging me not to abandon the immature idea that I am somehow more special than everyone else.  Maybe I am just plain Jane and I will live an insignificant life just like everyone else.  Or maybe everyone has some grand gift to the world, if only they are brave enough to seek it out.  Or maybe you don't have to do anything grand to be significant.

The best way I know to express myself right now is to write.  I don't have the time, money, or talent to pursue much else.  The problem is that I don't feel like I have anything exciting to write about.  I don't want to write about the past, because I feel like I am just finally ridding myself of its bonds.  I don't want to write about the future because the future is simply a mystery that will only disappoint you if you try to predict it.  By process of elimination, I am stuck with the present.  Considering that this post was inspired by an evening of drunkenness, I seriously doubt the present's ability to provide quality subject matter.  But I will commit myself to writing nonetheless.

I haven't felt this restless since I was in Tennessee.  I want to move.  I want to move to the coast or to a cheap Seattle suburb or something.  I looked it up and there are cheap apartments on the Coast and in Aberdeen.  I could afford to do it.  I don't want to be here anymore.  I want to push everything and everyone away.  What if I did?

What if I just ran away and got an apartment and worked at some little no name Starbucks and lived my life?  I could get a dog.  I could be happy.

Maybe I should move across seas.  I wonder if I could afford to live in Italy.  I could eat gelato and get a simple job and walk most places, and take the metro everywhere else.  I did it when I was in Rome.  People there speak English and are friendly.  I could get along just fine.

I would be just fine.

See the thing is that I know myself too well; my restlessness is a symptom of misery.  Its an expression of me feeling stuck in a situation that I hate.  I felt it when I was in Tennessee and couldn't leave, and I feel it now.  I feel pain and hurt and rejection and anger and most of all a deep, cutting, searing sadness.  I just don't understand.  I don't fucking understand.  And I am angry at you because I can't understand.  I feel like there is something you aren't telling me.  Thats the only explanation that makes sense to me.

I hate when I can't control my circumstances.  It makes me feel so trapped.  I am miserable and sad and frustrated and I have no power to change what is making me feel this way.  I can't change my situation and so my only options are to ignore and avoid my feelings or to change them.  I have yet to figure out how to change them and so I want to run away and ignore them.  Maybe God is the answer to changing them, but I don't want to ask Him for help.  I don't like Him right now.  I love Him and I am so thankful for my relationship with Him but I am so insanely tired of tough love.

I am tired of giving things up.  Actually, I am tired of having things taken away and being told to get on board with it.  I just want to run away and tell everyone to leave me alone, because people hurt.  You let them get close to you and then they have the power to hurt you.

If only I didn't love you so much.

I feel like I might explode.  I want to yell and scream at you and shake you until your realize that tearing us apart is crazy.  The worst thing is that doing any of those things would just reaffirm your decision to leave me here.  You think I am too dependent upon you, and my breaking heart just proves you right.  How is it fair that the reason I want to be with you so badly is the same reason you won't take me?  What is love if its not allowed to be a little passionate and crazy and wild and free?  I don't want a controlled love where I am completely independent and stable and perfectly fine without you.  I want to be somewhat dependent upon you.  I thought that's what a relationship is.  Does that make me so messed up?

I hate that I can't share these thoughts with you.  I can't be honest with you, because doing so would just be counterproductive to my desires.  But honestly, how are you going to feel when I am ready to share the thoughts you think you want to hear?  Do you really want to hear me tell you that now I think I am fine without you?  That I don't need you anymore?  That I am strong and independent and I know who I am and where I am going, and all that is independent of you? Is that really what you want?

I don't really know how you are supposed to start one of these things. Honestly, I feel pretty silly since the only person I intend to share this with is Kyle.  I don't even really know what I plan on writing about.  All I know is that I need to write.

I need to start to think and feel and explore again.  I have had my head down for a long time.  I work and I sleep and I eat and sometimes I spend time with those I love. But mostly I just work and sleep and eat and keep my head down.  I don't want to have my head down anymore.  I am strong enough now to open my eyes and let myself see and touch and embrace and interact with the world around me.  God didn't intend for me to live a passive life.

I am absolutely terrified for the year ahead.  Undoubtedly it will be full of countless changes, just like this past year has been.  The difference is this coming year I am going to have to face some of those changes on my own.  Kyle is going away.  My sense of safety and belonging and home is being moved a thousand miles away.  This next year I am going to have to fight a lot of my own battles.  He will still be there for me, but its time I reawaken and regain some of my independence.  It will be good; but as with most things in life, you have to go through some suffering and pain and fear in order to grow.

Just like I didn't know how to start this post, I have no idea how I am supposed to end it. I do think I have said all I want to for today though.  Hmmm..... This blog is pretty much a metaphor for my life right now: I have no fucking clue what I am doing.  Sweet.