On loneliness, and waiting
I thought that I was good at this sort of thing, feeling people out, getting to know them, sounding them out so that I would have a sense of what to do with them. As if I were a mechanic and they were parts to sort, everything and everyone has its place, and I know what I'm looking at most of the time, this should be easy, right?
I was completely blindsided by the fact that my emotions get tangled up when I'm looking for that important part; that potential mate part, and that my hopes fly ahead of my head. I also forget that the depths to which you can know a person; their ins and outs, their intricate details, are an unfolding; tracing their pathways is like becoming an art afficianado, only with people as the subjects. One can get lost in a good piece of art. That does not mean that you are to take the piece of art home with you. It does not mean that it is home, for you. And it is that place of home, that place of belonging that I am searching for, and I do not think I have yet tuned my ear patiently enough or quietly enough to listen for that thrumming of synchronization.
I wonder when I will find you; when the filaments of our own disparate melodies will converge into one song. I wonder if I will know you when I see you, or if I will ruin it with impulsiveness that heedlessly abandons all wisdom and prudence. I wonder if I will have the patience to wait, or the presence to shine the full light of myself, unconscious and free of the hinderances of others thoughts of me. I wonder if I will grow beyond the disappointments that men have been in my life, and know enough of what a good man is so that your appearance won't be such a startling and stark contrast that I'll be too bewildered to behave normally. I wonder if you'll allow a bit of brotherly encouragement and appreciation between now and that meeting so I won't consider you a mirage or try to inhale you like a thirsty traveler in the desert coming upon their first real oasis.
I admit that like a cat I'd like to land on my feet. If you get to know me at all, you'll learn that is an essential element to my character in people interactions. Elemental really. What I mean when I say that is that I'd like our interactions to be normal; blissfully, mundanely normal even. Not hypercharged with intensity (though I'm sure there will be moments), but with an air of reality about it all. An air of wisdom. Surely I could be overeager enough to generate enough intensity that may all be in my mind, which would help no one. Surely I have enough passion to feel for two people; if this doesn't have some normalcy to it then I might become ill fit for the daily tasks of living, even if that might be fun (and flattering for you). You can't begrudge me my little requests for sense.
You have already been a passion of my heart since I was 17yrs old. In some ways, I've waited this long for you, what's waiting a few years longer? In others the years mark leaness like a wolf weathering a hard winter. My passion is for you, as my passion is for the Lord, something singular, and powerful, and separate from all the other things I have known. Though it is in the mark of my nature to enjoy people fully, to give the best of what I have to them, with you and the Lord there is a rank and file above any other responsibility, any other calling. You have my heart first. I know that better than I know my own name. I only hope the Lord will teach me and refine me to listen to Him and my love for you and Him first before haring off to try to save the world. Save the world with you both I may, but cherishing you both as you deserve requires some special one on one time.
Right now I don't seem to give God and me enough alone time. Hell, I wonder how well I give myself "me time". Slowing down has seemed the hardest lesson. I'm learning a true Sabbath is not laziness as one might suppose but respite, meditation and celebration. It's productive. I'm not even close to there. I wonder how I will make time for you, for me and the Lord while making time for others. I know you and I will need some time apart so that we'll have something to say to each other now and then. The mystery of being two lives and yet being one. I wish I could say I trusted my ability to balance such things, but my track record has been piss poor on that so far. I sometimes hope that you'll be wise and have restraint on such things so that I won't be bungling along cutting boundaries on my own.
If I could just be better at prudence, I wouldnt be so worried about being consumed by yearning passion like a log doused with kerosene. As it stands I remain unconfined and far too passionate in my desire for your arrival. Maybe my wildness will be charming. May heaven help us regardless.
I doubt all y'all want to hear some mushy junk written by a girl who don't get out much, about a whole lotta nothin' that hasn't happened yet, but if'n you're curious, there it is.