Don't ask me why or how I managed to get so bloody sensitive. It must've been something that happened last year, because I swear I was a lot less... emotional... in 2005. Perhaps (as is with many people), I have an undiscovered wound that has yet to heal... and unfortunately can't heal until it is discovered. Or maybe I was an optimist back then, but now I am a cynic. Cynical, sarcastic, critical... and just... hurting?
**
We talked tonight. You can ignore the previous blog now, because we fixed things. I realised that despite our differences (no matter how frustrating they may be at this early stage of our relationship), Edwin and I are together - and that's that. Grateful as I am for his persistence in reassuring me that he's in this for the long haul, I can't help but wonder how we will survive if he and I don't value the same things in a relationship... and then he gently and humbly reminds me that he - a young man who's lived a good 23 (almost 24) years of his life independently - is only learning now what it really means to care for someone else; to be in a relationship that requires more than mere interest, but his commitment and... well... love. And even though his learning curves often mean disappointing or hurting me, I know that if I love him then I'll let him learn.
"Love is patient." The first requirement of love in St Paul's epistle and I can't even tick it off.
And I've had another revelation about the change in character. I mean, I've always been a romantic at heart. No matter how much I say I spew over mush and affection and being called "baby" (which still makes me laugh so hard that my sides hurt), I know that I love the ideal of love. I love Love. This is a character flaw which has led to many heartbreaks and stumbles, but hey - I've known it all along.
What I didn't know, though, was that I capable of being the type of girl I promised I'd never be: jealous, demanding, sensitive and... God-forbid... giver of the silent-treatment. And yet all these traits have shown themselves on more than several occassion in the last four months. What the hell got into me???
Is it really because the idealist in me was so badly bruised that the cynic has taken permanent residence in my personality? Can the bruises heal, or will I forever be jaded? I'd like to believe in a pure, lasting, and beautiful love... but can't help but fear the disappointment of reaching for a star only to find it no longer exists.
I believe all my doubts and insecurities are unleashed at Edwin, even though they've only blossomed because so many other things in my life have come to such a bitterly disappointing "slap-in-the-face-and-splash-your-face-with-a-bucket-of-ice-water" ending - and I'm terrified that we too will reach the same conclusion/finale. I know he tells me I shouldn't think like that... but I won't lie - I am scared.
Like I said to Amardeep on the way home from today's catch-up with Andrew Moody and Cobey: It's like I turned this over and over in my mind so many times, allowing the dreams and fantasies to build; only to find the reality of the situation thoroughly unsatisfying to the point of tears. (I was referring to my job by the way, not my relationship with Edwin)
For years I allowed myself to believe that I was destined to work full-time in youth ministry, only to find myself burnt out and unequipped for the journey only a few months after beginning it. All those years I built it up in my mind, my heart blinded with the desire and the goal to serve, serve and serve some more... and now that I'm here and finally doing it... I can't do it. I told Amardeep the irony was that the moment I started getting paid to do what I loved the most, I began to hate it. Funny that...
And here I am, sitting on my bed, all snuggled up in my pyjamas, and I can't help but get depressed because I feel so unaccomplished. I knew it was blunt truth that the Joy that Andrew taught 5 years ago in senior high school hasn't changed at all: I'm still a lost idealist with no idea what I want to do with my life or my career or my future. All I know is that if I stay exactly where I am now for any longer than I promised I would... I would end up going mental.
I also know that my desire to leave this place is growing even more and more fervent. It's not because I want to escape. It's because I know that if I leave, then I can look back at this very spot and for once see it from an outsiders/objective viewpoint, and realise that it ain't so bad. That I'm not unaccomplished, or that I'm not turning into the girlfriend I told myself never to be. I'm just in the painful process of growing up.
"Why so downcast, oh my soul, put thy hope in God..."
Psalm 42
No comments:
Post a Comment