Dream of Rain
I feel very tired tonight, in a certain way that comes back to me occasionally.
The checkout girl at Walmart tonight was very cute, in a completely.. nonthreatening, attainable kind of way. As we walked out, Matt said that I should have hit on her. I told him I thought she looked really nice, but the thought of approaching her that way never even entered my mind. On a really good day, I might be able to be that 'open,' but even then I'd never think of it. It's not just that I'm used to taking a long time to connect with anyone.
I think I may be getting used to expecting to be alone all my life. This is something I've both wanted and dreaded for many years now. I realized a while back that if I could change my expectations, I could cheat myself out of a lot of the angst of never having a meaningful - okay, any relationship. But at the same time, I also know that accepting it won't happen will probably guarantee it won't happen.
Lots of people seem to be waiting longer to connect and marry. Don't mistake this for that. I'm not waiting. I'm.. lost.
Another thing that bothers me is the difficulty in reconciling the bite of such feelings with my faith. I've never laid this out before, but I began to talk to Matt about it just the other night. I'd expect, if I tried to talk about this with a Christian counselor, who I think are usually better grounded than mindphysicians up on the latest and hippest theories, to hear the fact that God loves me brought up as the primary thing, as if that should make me feel differently. I am troubled by my heartfelt response: God loves everyone. Why should that change anything? Of course it's good; we'd all be lost if not for that, but come on, God loved Hitler. Why should I feel lessened and selfish for insisting that I want the love of someone flawed and considerably pickier than God?
I stopped going to church on my own volition while I was in college, not for anything like the usual reasons.. there was a girl there who was pleasant, but I saw nothing in her that I found interesting or attractive.. nothing. I wasn't drawn to her in any way. Yet it was clear after a little while that she was becoming interested in me. I picked up on this even before my mom, trying to encourage me to go to services MORE often (what can I say, young men have a tendency to stay up late and prize their sleep the next morning), mentioned that the pastor, an old family friend, had told her there was a nice girl there who liked me. I froze up. I didn't know what to do. Never before had I had this kind of problem - I'd always been in her shoes. I was ashamed of the position I was in, and afraid of being pressed further, giving away my flat disinterest and knowing I was the one responsible for crushing someone for a change.
So I just backed away completely. My family never really asked me about any of this; they assume that it was the temporary drift of someone maturing. There's a little more to it now, also.. I don't understand why God has let these things get heaped onto my shoulders along with all my medical problems. You could say it's a point of standing contention. My faith is alive, but my relations with my father in heaven are.. dysfunctional.
The checkout girl at Walmart tonight was very cute, in a completely.. nonthreatening, attainable kind of way. As we walked out, Matt said that I should have hit on her. I told him I thought she looked really nice, but the thought of approaching her that way never even entered my mind. On a really good day, I might be able to be that 'open,' but even then I'd never think of it. It's not just that I'm used to taking a long time to connect with anyone.
I think I may be getting used to expecting to be alone all my life. This is something I've both wanted and dreaded for many years now. I realized a while back that if I could change my expectations, I could cheat myself out of a lot of the angst of never having a meaningful - okay, any relationship. But at the same time, I also know that accepting it won't happen will probably guarantee it won't happen.
Lots of people seem to be waiting longer to connect and marry. Don't mistake this for that. I'm not waiting. I'm.. lost.
Another thing that bothers me is the difficulty in reconciling the bite of such feelings with my faith. I've never laid this out before, but I began to talk to Matt about it just the other night. I'd expect, if I tried to talk about this with a Christian counselor, who I think are usually better grounded than mindphysicians up on the latest and hippest theories, to hear the fact that God loves me brought up as the primary thing, as if that should make me feel differently. I am troubled by my heartfelt response: God loves everyone. Why should that change anything? Of course it's good; we'd all be lost if not for that, but come on, God loved Hitler. Why should I feel lessened and selfish for insisting that I want the love of someone flawed and considerably pickier than God?
I stopped going to church on my own volition while I was in college, not for anything like the usual reasons.. there was a girl there who was pleasant, but I saw nothing in her that I found interesting or attractive.. nothing. I wasn't drawn to her in any way. Yet it was clear after a little while that she was becoming interested in me. I picked up on this even before my mom, trying to encourage me to go to services MORE often (what can I say, young men have a tendency to stay up late and prize their sleep the next morning), mentioned that the pastor, an old family friend, had told her there was a nice girl there who liked me. I froze up. I didn't know what to do. Never before had I had this kind of problem - I'd always been in her shoes. I was ashamed of the position I was in, and afraid of being pressed further, giving away my flat disinterest and knowing I was the one responsible for crushing someone for a change.
So I just backed away completely. My family never really asked me about any of this; they assume that it was the temporary drift of someone maturing. There's a little more to it now, also.. I don't understand why God has let these things get heaped onto my shoulders along with all my medical problems. You could say it's a point of standing contention. My faith is alive, but my relations with my father in heaven are.. dysfunctional.