My heart's not breaking because I'm not feeling anything at all.

I've come to realize that a huge portion of human existence is based soley upon the fact that we are all meant to be bridges and nothing more, linking friends to others and linking past experiences to the eventual future. I've acted as a bridge--to say I've been meaningless would be a lie, as my bridge-based purpose has clearly been fulfilled--to many and used many for that exact purpose. We were never meant to be best friends forever. Just for a predetermined time, until I introduced you to him. Them. All of them. And then I was rendered useless from your point of view. But to say I'm completely guilt free myself would be a lie. I've used others, and although I'm not proud of my actions, I don't regret what I've done. You have been the link from my desolate past to my hopeful future--nothing more. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

What does it take to inflict that upon oneself? Is it desperation? Or a perverse courage?

Just then, a puzzled look clouded her previously eager face. She pursed her lips together and, with a slight tilt of the head, questioned my reasoning. I needed to justify my explanation. Perhaps an analogy will simplify my thinking. Bad habits and self-destroying addictions are worse than crammed closets. I went on to describe a girl who led an overwhelmingly busy life. Jane Doe was so busy, in fact, that she had little time to dedicate to simple household chores such as doing the laundry, washing the dishes or even vacuuming the living room floor. One day after work, Jane, in a desperate attempt to purify her environment, hastily snatched up her dirty clothing and began cramming it into the unmethodical compartment known as her closet. Jane never had the time to dedicate to proper cleaning, even though deep down she firmly believed God equipped the days with twenty-four hours ad hoc. So she hid all her dirty clothes next to her even dirtier secrets and abominable habits inside her closet. Even skeletons deserve a companionable assembly. After all, misery does love its company. It's been said that the first step one must take in solving a problem is admitting and embracing its very presence. Unless humans are willing to seek serious help for their drug addictions, self-mutilating habits, sinful lifestyles, etc., they aren't going to get it. Self-reliance won't cut it. It's not enough to make promises to yourself because there's a lack of accountability present. No matter how hard Jane tried to keep her closet doors tightly shut, they always found a way to crack themselves open and that's because she didn't take care of the problem correctly. People today are not strong enough to tackle these issues on their own, and luckily, they don't have to. They need to be rescued from their sin. They need to experience God's grace and forgiveness before they will ever be able to move on to things greater and nobler. Jane didn't know any better. I couldn't help her. I just watched her make the same mistakes again. Bad habits are worse than crammed closets. Do you understand? A line of silent but perceptive nods began in near-perfect unison around the table. I grinned. I conclusively succeeded in making my point perfectly clear.

I tried to be perfect--it just wasn't worth it.

How do you feel?

Like the shell of someone who was meant to be really great.

Alienating others is my favorite thing to do.

The running faucet illuminates the idea that something more superficial yet less beneficial than counting tiles on the shower wall is going on. Paralyzed.

I envision all these words forming behind my eyes but I don't feel like the person illustrating them; I lack certain qualifications. Frozen.

I should be crying. Shouldn't I? I should be moving, but I can't. Breathing? I don't want to. I have no interest in coping.

I turn the faucet off and feel the steam gently burn my hand. I've manipulated the outside into allowing me an extended time to sit there and just be. Exist.

I've also earned more minutes to dedicate to the further admiration of the shower tiles. The furthest I've gotten thus far is 32. The phone keeps ringing. Ringing, ringing.

How am I supposed to concentrate on the shower tiles if the phone won't stop ringing?

I'm letting go of all my downer thoughts. In no time, there'll be one less sad robot.

I sat on the edge of my bed for nearly ten minutes contemplating whether I wanted to write or whether I wanted to sleep. I made a compromise with myself and am now skillfully attempting both. I'm lying in bed, curled up safely in a fetal position, sucking my left thumb and writing this with my free hand. It's a win-win.

You are unkind and mean spirited for doing this to me. If it was your intention to hurt me and make me feel like less of a person--congratulations. You've succeeded summa cum laude.

I wish so badly wish I would tell you all of this personally; a face-to-face affair would be ideal. It's not that I fear honesty or even confrontation. I'm happy to embrace either if the encounter leads to a reasonable solution for both parties. Our relationship is delicately crafted, more so than any connection I've ever witnessed (let alone had) in my entire life. As much as I would love to clear the air and send the elephant lingering around our empty conversations scampering elsewhere, the cost is simply too high. I'm not willing to engage in another three-month long "he said" "she said" festival. I value what little sanity I have left too much and I won't carelessly let it be decided by any of you ever again.

Enough should have been enough, yet here I am.

The university in which I am five months from attending prohibits any public Internet postings that contain "whining," "complaining," and other expressions of such likeness. I seldom find myself doing either. I talk (or in this case, write.) I talk and I talk and I talk. Late at night, there's a portion of me that wishes I was still oblivious to how dishonest my friends turned out to be because at least then at least I'd have a listening ear. I refuse to explain and re-examine my entire life story every time I feel like talking because that becomes emotionally exhausting after awhile. That's the lone fault in speaking to well-meaning strangers. People don't understand the weight of recent events without knowing the entire story. It's so much deeper than her recent blow--this cold war has been raging much longer than that. Even then, I highly doubt anyone could empathize with my innermost feelings, despite their best intentions. Luckily pour moi, my notebook is already familiar with the beat of my heart and the repercussion of my past.

My eyes are beginning to feel heavy. My physical body is nearly limp (excluding my writing hand) yet I feel like there's a second version of myself screaming so loudly her voice becomes raspy and she's ripping her hair out because she can't find another escape. She's the part of me who coldly stares at the shower tiles until she's able to feel the wages of what she's done.

P.S. Thanks for twisting the knife around a little more--I found an extraordinary linear topic.

P.P.S. I bought a picture frame exhibiting the famous opening lines of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "How Do I Love Thee?" sonnet and it totally made my week. How nerdy am I?

I love writing. I write all the time. Why can't I think of a topic for my line paper?

(I'm not trying to clear any guilty feelings I may have obtained by recent behaviors nor can I honestly admit to benefiting from any underlying motives. God has led me to fix a handful of broken relationships in my life, and where He leads me, I will follow. I am continuing to free myself of this disgusting bitterness that has been destroying me. Although my worst critics assume too much has been said and done, my God believes otherwise and I'll take His Word over theirs any day. Please understand my intentions are as clean and innocent as the snow that gracefully falls from the sky (nearly) every December like clockwork. Let me back in. Give me another chance! All you need to do is unlock the back door and I'll find my way in. It's not too late!)

I always turn the car around.

In a way, I need a change from this burnout scene
Another time, another town, another everything
But it's always back to you

As for the hurt--it's still there, but it finally feels distant. The pain which had previously haunted my every move seems like nothing but a long-lost echo. Memories are finally becoming what they were always meant to be--memories--after all this time. And all I ever wanted was this blinding opportunity that has always been sitting right next to me. I don't know what compelled me to let it all out ("get it all out, rip it out, remove it, etc. Don't be alarmed when the wound begins to bleed") and although it wasn't easy, I'm so glad I chose to tell you how I felt.

Stumble out in the night from the pouring rain
Made the block, sat and thought, "There's more I need"
It's always back to you

And here I am because enough was enough. I'm caught inside this whirlwind of overwhelming emotions ranging from understated contentment to a freeing independence from this burden I've been bearing to complete peace and satisfying elation. I'm okay. I'm really okay. These spontaneous leaps of faith are really working out in my favor. My chains are gone. I'm finally free.

But I'm good without ya
Yeah, I'm good without you

This message changed my life.

Feelings and forgiveness have nothing to do with each other.
Forgiveness is an act of the will.
If we respond in unforgiveness, a root of bitterness is going to take place and out of that is going to spring anger, resentment, bitterness and hostility
You may keep it submerged for awhile but I'm here to tell you it's either going to trickle out little by little or one of these days it's going to blow like a volcano and it's going to spill out on everybody that knows you and everybody that lives around you.

If you have been deeply hurt in the past and you are still struggling with the ability to forgive the person who wronged you, God can set you free. He can liberate you from the awesome sense of the weight of an unforgiving spirit.

At no place in the Bible does it say we can justify an unforgiving spirit.

Every aspect of life is affected by an unforgiving spirit.

Maybe there's something that happened weeks or months or even a few years ago and you've buried it down there and you've forgotten it (you think.) That unforgiving spirit has been eating away at you and destroying your emotional base.

The mature response is choosing to forgive the moment we've been wronged.

If you unwisely choose not to be forgiving to those who wrong you, you have two other choices: you can blast or you can bury. You can blast back those who have wronged you and tell them what you really think or you can bury it deep down inside. If you choose the unwise reaction, choose the wiser of the two unwise positions. Blast it--get it out of your system. Don't let it rot inside of you.

The consequences of an unforgiving spirit--it saturates your attitudes, actions, emotions, relationships, etc.

You cannot say Jesus Christ is Lord of your life and have an unforgiving spirit. You can't say that He is living through you if you're living with an unforgiving spirit towards someone.

Let's look at Joseph. Remember his hurts. Rejected by his father. His brothers hated him and despised him and were going to kill him. Betrayed and lied about. Sent to prison. Forgotten. His life was a life of hurt and despair and pain and suffering. Every time he was hurt, he was deeply hurt. He struggled with what they did to him. He struggled because he was misunderstood and vilely treated. But he knew how to deal with an unforgiving spirit--He allowed God to heal him quickly. That's why people were drawn to him and that's why people loved him. That's why God honored him. Joseph responded the right way.

The steps you go through in dealing with an unforgiving spirit:
1. Wronged--you have been wronged.
2. Difficulty--you're unable to deal with it when you've been wronged because of who did it or or what they did.
3. Detour--you just want to forget it!
4. Dig a hole--emotionally, you just want to bury the whole idea. You don't want to think about it.
5. Deny--you deny that the pain is there.
6. Defeat--you're defeated by this unforgiveness.
7. Defile--unforgiveness defiles your relationships, conversations, physical body, etc.
8. Discouraged--you feel things aren't going to work out. On the inside there is no contentment, joy or happiness. Why can't you love others? Why can't you sense others' love?
9. Desperation--you get desperate because you don't know how to deal with it (destruction.)
10. Discover--ask someone to help you find out what's wrong. You'll discover that root that you've denied and repressed for all this time.
11. Deal--deal with it. Open your heart to someone and lay your life bare.
12. Deliverance--you get delivered from the very spirit of unforgiveness that was destroying your life!!

God, I don't feel it, but I choose by an act of will to forgive them for wronging me. I'm releasing them for what they have done to me.The moment you say, "I CHOOSE to forgive!" the healing process finally begins.

A God who is all good does not work in the life of His children with an evil purpose.If God has allowed you to be seriously, deeply, weepingly hurt over the years, a GOOD GOD with a GOOD purpose who is going to work out a GOOD cause and a GOOD end result allowed that in your life!!

Get your eyes off of your offender and get them on your God!