In Which I Love Love And Try To Always Remember That
I woke up this morning feeling really discouraged about loving people. But then it turned wonderful and sweet.
You see, I love people a lot. I can know somebody for an hour and list forty things about them that I find adorable, astounding, and wonderful. As soon as I meet basically everybody, I want to take them home with me to sit on my couch and read Stuart Little and eat soup with me. I'm not even exaggerating. I love people so much that the tiniest thing they do to make them them makes me sob with love for them.
So I woke up this morning and cursed it. I hated it, for the moment. I hated that when people get sad, I get sad for them to the point where I cry for them and can't sleep because I feel like a worthless human being for not being able to help them. I hated it so much that I had loved Andy so much, and that Will Rubio is somebody I love so much already, just for all his quirks, because there is no way in hell we will ever be more than awesome friends, which is fine, but I still love him, and that I love my grandparents and cousins and neighbors and dozens and dozens of friends so much, and the same with this Blair Hendershot, and all of the people I have ever met in my life. I love everybody so much and I was so pissed this morning because I thought well, they're all just going to leave, or die, or something.
Last night, I talked to Dr. Nielsen on the phone just before I went to bed. I sniffled through the conversation because Satan had been kicking me in the face all day. Dr. Nielsen's son Tom is my age and has leukemia and might not make it this time around, and as Dr. Nielsen and I began our conversation last night, I could tell he had been crying. He sounded like it, anyways. His son is just dying, no big deal, and he talks me down from suicide last week and basically treats me like his daughter. Tells me how much he cares for me. I love the man so much that in my prayers last night I wept uncontrollably at Heavenly Father for blessing me so much with someone like him. I don't doubt that we were good friends before we even showed up here. I wept uncontrollably at Heavenly Father for blessing me with Emily. With Lanee who has invited me over to dinner two nights in a row and made sure I was eating a lot and read my blog out loud tonight, which made me feel so special. With all of Will's friends, Jeff, Matt, Joey, Nyla, all of these people who I just met this week, but who are so welcoming and loving and wonderful and hysterically funny.
This morning I read through my patriarchal blessing again, which I've been doing every second of every day, and just like in every other second of every day, something stood out to me in my barely-a-page-and-a-half blessing. "The gifts of compassion and love are given unto you, for the Lord is aware of your wishes to be able tp express your love and concerns unto others." Obviously this part always stands out, but this morning was like a big fat earthquake of standing out. My blessing is short, and kind of generic, I thought at first, but there are sentences in there that just kick me right back into moving sometimes. Like that one. Especially that one, and another one, which mentions my two other gifts.
And for some reason, this morning, although I'm sure I've thought about it other mornings just as much--this morning, I really felt it. I understood for a moment why my biggest strength, love, is also my biggest weakness. I understood that the compassion and love I hold inside my small ribcage are really astounding in their power, their potency, their amount of helpfulness and their ability to penetrate people's darkness. I've got the gifts of compassion and love. I have a gift with them. I have a depth with them. I have the ability to make other people who are depressed and sad feel happy. And you know what? I'm only twenty. I have so much more darkness to penetrate and disband from out of my little ribcage. Sure, sure, all of this unbounded affection that I have spread everywhere has caused me a great deal of pain, more pain than I really knew people experienced, but it has also brought me sheer joy that nothing else will ever bring me in my life. Nothing brings me more joy than loving people. And I realize that. And it makes me deliriously happy--because at the end of the day, like right now, I can look back and smile with delight at all the people I got to experience today. All the people I got to drink in, all the people I got to be washed over by. It is kind of the most awesome.
You see, I love people a lot. I can know somebody for an hour and list forty things about them that I find adorable, astounding, and wonderful. As soon as I meet basically everybody, I want to take them home with me to sit on my couch and read Stuart Little and eat soup with me. I'm not even exaggerating. I love people so much that the tiniest thing they do to make them them makes me sob with love for them.
So I woke up this morning and cursed it. I hated it, for the moment. I hated that when people get sad, I get sad for them to the point where I cry for them and can't sleep because I feel like a worthless human being for not being able to help them. I hated it so much that I had loved Andy so much, and that Will Rubio is somebody I love so much already, just for all his quirks, because there is no way in hell we will ever be more than awesome friends, which is fine, but I still love him, and that I love my grandparents and cousins and neighbors and dozens and dozens of friends so much, and the same with this Blair Hendershot, and all of the people I have ever met in my life. I love everybody so much and I was so pissed this morning because I thought well, they're all just going to leave, or die, or something.
Last night, I talked to Dr. Nielsen on the phone just before I went to bed. I sniffled through the conversation because Satan had been kicking me in the face all day. Dr. Nielsen's son Tom is my age and has leukemia and might not make it this time around, and as Dr. Nielsen and I began our conversation last night, I could tell he had been crying. He sounded like it, anyways. His son is just dying, no big deal, and he talks me down from suicide last week and basically treats me like his daughter. Tells me how much he cares for me. I love the man so much that in my prayers last night I wept uncontrollably at Heavenly Father for blessing me so much with someone like him. I don't doubt that we were good friends before we even showed up here. I wept uncontrollably at Heavenly Father for blessing me with Emily. With Lanee who has invited me over to dinner two nights in a row and made sure I was eating a lot and read my blog out loud tonight, which made me feel so special. With all of Will's friends, Jeff, Matt, Joey, Nyla, all of these people who I just met this week, but who are so welcoming and loving and wonderful and hysterically funny.
This morning I read through my patriarchal blessing again, which I've been doing every second of every day, and just like in every other second of every day, something stood out to me in my barely-a-page-and-a-half blessing. "The gifts of compassion and love are given unto you, for the Lord is aware of your wishes to be able tp express your love and concerns unto others." Obviously this part always stands out, but this morning was like a big fat earthquake of standing out. My blessing is short, and kind of generic, I thought at first, but there are sentences in there that just kick me right back into moving sometimes. Like that one. Especially that one, and another one, which mentions my two other gifts.
And for some reason, this morning, although I'm sure I've thought about it other mornings just as much--this morning, I really felt it. I understood for a moment why my biggest strength, love, is also my biggest weakness. I understood that the compassion and love I hold inside my small ribcage are really astounding in their power, their potency, their amount of helpfulness and their ability to penetrate people's darkness. I've got the gifts of compassion and love. I have a gift with them. I have a depth with them. I have the ability to make other people who are depressed and sad feel happy. And you know what? I'm only twenty. I have so much more darkness to penetrate and disband from out of my little ribcage. Sure, sure, all of this unbounded affection that I have spread everywhere has caused me a great deal of pain, more pain than I really knew people experienced, but it has also brought me sheer joy that nothing else will ever bring me in my life. Nothing brings me more joy than loving people. And I realize that. And it makes me deliriously happy--because at the end of the day, like right now, I can look back and smile with delight at all the people I got to experience today. All the people I got to drink in, all the people I got to be washed over by. It is kind of the most awesome.