unplugged

Inhale.

Who are you? You share no resemblance to the friend I once knew (let alone the person.) I take enough responsibility for the way that you are but you hurt me and when confronted you turned around and did it again. Intentionally. Your priorities are not in order--I would have found a way to be there if it had been you in the very same position. I find it ironic that you're all about "selfless love" and "giving," yet you're the most selfish person I know. Where were you on Thanksgiving? What about on Christmas? Who are you? I don't miss you. Should I? Am I supposed to? This is new to me. No, not the part where I lose the friend but the part where I'm blissfully indifferent towards the loss. I think about you every single day. Believe it or not, you have a huge impact on every choice I make these days. I weigh my decisions not on a scale filled with pros and cons, but rather of how proud I would make you versus how disappointed you would be in me. I know that's foolish considering our lives have been split apart, but it's the truth. I love you. Switching gears. Keep up. Do you think I enjoy being this way? Do you think it makes me happy to hurt the people I love and (used to) care about? It doesn't. I don't enjoy making people feel as badly about themselves as I do about me. I didn't choose to be this way. I much prefer the girl who "loves everybody and everything!" Unfortunately, reality grabbed that girl by the neck and choked the life (and love) (and patience) (and compassion) out of her. We all have our stories, our reasons for acting the way that we do--and you guys are a big part of mine. You are arrogant, and you are controlling. Sound familiar? I know your secret; I stumbled across it. I could lie and say I didn't mean to, but I did. Of course, that's not the truth I expected to find... but now I know. I wouldn't consider my knowledge blackmail necessarily. I'm above that. Ideally, we would talk all the time and be together all the time and share secrets and popcorn but unfortunately, we don't live in a perfect world. I just wish the truth would do what it does best and stop hiding so I could do the same. In a way, I'm sorry that I know the truth because I look at you differently now. You are not the person I thought you were. You are emotionally and spiritually weak, and instead of being burdened to help you grow stronger, I find myself frustrated. Why can't you just say no? What is wrong with you? Who are you? But then again, we tend to envision ourselves reacting differently to difficult situations and I know that it's never as easy as previously imagined. I have never met you, yet I am inspired daily by your words and actions. I wanted so badly to be like you for so long, and now, I am. But I want my life back. I don't want to pretend to be you anymore. We both lost. Ironic, huh? And, like, okay. "Love is, like, the greatest feeling in the whole entire world!" Sure. I'll give you that much. But, like, what happens when it's, like, over? Silence. You are a spoiled brat. You are so in love with yourself, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why. You are in for a very rude awakening--hopefully sooner rather than later. You are selfish and hurtful and you don't care about anyone but yourself. Wait, isn't that what selfish means? Nevermind. I feel you're still genuine, but I'm not sure how much longer you'll remain that way given your living situation. I hope you'll stay authentic (towards me) for as long as possible. I realize that's an unrealistic wish coming from me, but I wish you the best in life anyway. You're the root of it all--the bad seed, some might dub you. What did I ever do to you? I'm sorry. It must be the fact that I didn't say "please" and "thank you" enough. Wait, no. That couldn't be it. My last minute wardrobe malfunction, maybe? Hmph. You'll get yours. I know your secret, too. It would ruin your "highly esteemed" reputation, but once again, I'm above that. I've been meaning to tell you this for awhile now, but the reason I quit showing up is plain and simple: I don't feel that I can trust you anymore. You haven't directly given me a reason to feel this way, but I'm smart and I know how this game works. I'm sorry if that hurts you or disappoints you, but that's just how I feel. (That sounds familiar! Ouch!) You care about me and my life because it's part of the job description. I make you look good, right? I love you; you loved me even when I was virtually unlovable. I owe you one. Thank you for caring enough about my future to speak up. I value your opinion more than I can describe. You're the only person I know who fits all three of my criteria. Congratulations. I feel that you've thrown your life away. You had so much potential, and I know you're happy now, but consider your life ten years down the road. You could have done so much! I love you infinitely. I'm sorry I put you in that position for such a long time. I swear, I never thought that I was wrong. If I could go back and change my actions, I would do it in a heartbeat. But, once again, we don't live in a perfect world so you'll have to settle for a heartfelt apology that you'll never actually receive and a handful of my regret. I know you well enough to know you never loved me. I still have so much left to say to you. I know that we're "friends" and what I did to you was wrong and incredibly hypocritical. After all, I am the spokesperson for loyalty in relationships. I wish I could tell you I'm sorry and mean it, but I can't. I don't feel a bit of remorse for what I did. As for you--you're my dirty little secret. You're the antithesis of anything I would ever consider, but it's been fun. You only like me when it's convenient for you. I wouldn't call you a stable friend, but I can be the same way at times so let's call the scores even. I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you, but I'm so grateful. You love me so much and it amazes me that you're able to find any good left in me at all. You, too. I love you! You've shown me what true friendship is all about. I'm going to miss you the most. I know that it was a "false alarm," but it still shook me up pretty badly. It was real for me, and that's a feeling I thought I had kissed good-bye during eighth grade. I was really working on it, but you messed up again. I'm wondering if putting my faith in you again is a safe bet; I'm betting not. And I know you "didn't mean it," but it meant something to me. It's going to take some time before things go back to our considered "normal." You lied to me. Silence might seem awkward for anyone else, but I think we pull it off beautifully. Words and conversation are when things seem to get tangled up and artless for us. I wish I was still able to recognize you. You've sold me the idea that you don't find it worthwhile to impress others countless times, yet you've faultered in expressing every thing you passionately believe(d in.) You were dedicated. You had faith. What happened? Who are you?

Exhale.
I can breathe again.

I've never been the type to worry about or pay much attention to life's minuscule details but there are exceptions to every rule and I, for once, admit to being completely and utterfly terrified.

On the bright side, I am thankful for the best friend God snuck into my life when I wasn't paying attention. I'm also thankful for calculators--honestly, who wants to do all that math by hand?

As I was cleaning my room tonight, I stumbled across the notebook I wrote in during the Pure Freedom retreat a few weeks ago.

I made a list of women in my life I considered to be "M.O.R.E."

Making right choices currently
Older and wiser
Readily accessible--she can watch you and you can watch her
Excited to burn for you

The list I created included my grandmother, Mrs. Dodds, Miss Jennifer, Mary, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Nye, Miss Barb, etc... and then it hit me. I have plenty of best friends. It's no secret that I have expressed many feelings of loneliness and isolation lately. Looking back, I have to pose this question: "Self, were you smoking crack? What was the matter with you?" Just because these women are 20-30 years older than me or married with children doesn't make our friendships any less valuable. If anything, our friendships have been strengthened by their wisdom and understanding of things I've experienced. These women have been where I am, and they have turned out (more than) okay. They made it. It's such a relief to realize that I do, in fact, have people in my life I can trust... people who love God more than anything and people who really, truly understand.

I had also made a list of the traits and qualities I want my future husband to have. Most girls at the retreat wrote long lists, very much in detail. My list, however, was short. There are only three specific things I am looking for (I'm not picky; it doesn't take much to make me a happy camper.)

1. Loves God more than me (and everything in his life, always)
2. LOYAL! to our family and to God, no matter what
3. Honest with me, always, even if the truth hurts or is unpleasant (omission is still lying!)

Another light bulb popped on. I can't think of a single person who fits my criteria. I refuse to settle for two out of three when I know God is planning something (someone) really, really great for me. I'm going to wait. I'm going to let my Heavenly Father finish what He started. I'm going to let go and let God write the rest of my love story. After all, only He knows my perfect ending.

(Being friends with you is like being friends with a straitjacket.

I'm human. I make mistakes. Actually, I make a lot of mistakes. I'm not perfect, but neither are you. I just need some air. You're suffocating me and the only thing I can ever think to say is "I'm sorry."

But why should I be sorry for all of your mistakes?

Please let me breathe. I feel like you only love me if I do the "right thing." If I choose the wrong path, you want absolutely nothing to do with me and you don't bother hiding it. I can't take it; I can't take it; I can't take it! I'm gasping for air. I'm choking, and I just need to breathe.)

I cannot wait until the day where my first thoughts every morning aren't, "Wow. It was a year ago today that (fill in the blank.)" I anticipate I'll finally be there mid-January, maybe sooner. On the bright side, after all of this is over I'll be able to look at every other situation I face in life with the knowledge and experience that there are always worse things that could happen to a person and I'll be just fine.

Thomas Imel died today. He turned 17 yesterday.

When Mrs. Ellis came on the intercom and solemnly instructed all teachers to check their e-mail, I knew. I looked around the computer lab and watched my classmates' faces tense up in fear and begin to distort. They knew, too. And so my Biology teacher quietly shut the door. And she told us Thomas passed away. And many students began sobbing uncontrollably. And they left. And the "unaffected" returned to their work.

When Sascha died, it was different for me because I didn't have a face to match the name. His death felt like another statistic, another tradegy. But this feels real. I didn't know Thomas very well. I've had a handful of math classes with him over the years and his best friend's locker was right next to mine last year. So, you could say I'm used to seeing him around.

Time, yet again, has come to an abrupt halt for me. The world feels different. There are teachers with one less student, and classmates with one less friend. Parents with one less child. There is someone who will never graduate high school, someone who will never feel the anxiety and excitement of filling out college applications and someone who will never marry. There's someone who will never know that Senator Barack Obama became President Barack Obama last night (another topic for another day.)

I understand the (seemingly) bottomless sorrow of losing someone you love. But at the same time, I understand that everything God does is purposeful and done with love. I also understand that when we're smack-dab in the middle of grief, it's so hard to see the goodness of God's perfect plan. But it's there.

God will carry us through these difficult trials if we choose to rely on Him. He's the only true source of comfort, peace, courage and strength for us. For so many of you, I know it seems impossible to exist in a world where Thomas does not--but it'll be okay. You will be okay. You might not ever "get over" it.. but you'll get used to it.

Steven Curtis Chapman couldn't have said it any better in the verse he added to "Yours" after the death of his 5-year-old daughter, Maria Chapman, in May.

Still even here in this great darkness

A comfort and a hope come breaking through

As I can say in life or death, God, we belong to You