This is the first time I am writing a post that is currently title-less. I mean, by the time YOU read it, it will have a title, but at the moment, I've got nothin'. Because I am just not sure what I want to say.
There is an awful lot on my heart right now and I am having one of those the-world-is-on-my-shoulders kinda days. I wish I could say I rang in the New Year with a joyful heart, but that's not entirely true. And that's not to say that I didn't have a great time with Brian and Hannah and Jackson, but underneath the smile my heart is heavy.
Do you ever feel incomplete? Like part of you is missing? Or like you're somehow not in sync with the people around you and the person you think you should be? That's how I feel. I've been so emotional and the sane side of me is yelling in my ear that I am being ridiculous and need to snap out of it, and the other part of me is finding ways to justify my tears.
I feel like my heart is broken in two pieces, and half of it is here on my sleeve for the world to see, complete with all the tears and honesty and impulse, and the other half is sheltered away inside of me where no one can touch it. That half, the sheltered one, it needs to be nourished right now. It needs to be protected and loved and lured out of its death grip. It needs to learn to trust. It needs time.
This day last year was also a very hard time for this girl. I remember specifically crying equally hard tears, taking equally shaky breaths, having to be equally brave to get through it. Only this year the reasons are so different. As I was unpacking my Christmas decorations this season I found a silver ball that I had decorated with fabric paint at Winter Camp last year. And it says "This too shall pass, '09". I know it sounds depressing, and I suppose that's where I was at. I was struggling and sad in my singleness, feeling terribly lonely and isolated. I spent New Years Eve that year with two of the dearest friends I could ever ask for, and yet when it was all over I went to my home, sat on my couch, and cried the most bitter tears I can remember crying in my entire life. I wept. I bawled. I mourned. I really, really cried. Then I got up, went to my room and started gathering up every last item that I was holding onto for my future: baby clothes, wedding magazine clippings, index cards with ideas and plans on them, letters I had written to that elusive man...I even got a blank CD and burned off every song I wanted played at my wedding, then promptly deleted them off iTunes. I was on a rampage trying to stuff everything I had ever hoped for into a box, which still to this day stays sitting untouched on a shelf in my closet. I also wrote a letter that day, the content unknown as I was obviously in quite a state. I'm trying as we speak to decide whether or not to read that today, this first day of yet another New Year. Perhaps I will.
Last year I had a very hard time grasping the concept of hope. My counsellor would get very frustrated with me from time to time because for me, the line between hope and expectation is very, very blurry. In my mind they are the same thing, which is so not true. I was always expecting all this good to come to me, when in reality the best I could do was hope for it to come. So that was what I set out to do in 2010. To re-learn how to hope. How to have faith. And low-and-behold, as soon as I gave those dreams of mine to God (respectively in a box on my shelf), and as soon as I chose to take up hope and faith rather than expectation, good things came to me. Very, very good things. One in the form of a man who has blessed my socks off. Who is better than I could have ever imagined or asked for (pardon the cliche).
So this year I face a very different challenge, and I can tell you right now that the challenge is going to be trust. You will have to hold me accountable, as I know this will be hard. Brian and I have been together for 6 months now, and though we have been through many ups and downs already, I know there are many more yet to come. And we're getting to that point now where trust is an issue. I need to learn the meaning of it; need to feel myself submit to it, to embrace it, to be okay with it. It's scary, but it's so necessary. Otherwise we're going to keep going in circles: me needing tons of reassurance that I am loved and cherished, and when those things aren't said or shown, feeling rejected and sad. I don't like it, and I want things to get better. I want to trust that I am loved, regardless of feeling. I want to know it. I want to trust it.
I sat down here tonight to say a warm and heart-felt Happy New Year to you, but instead ended up pouring my heart out. It's feeling bruised and a bit sore, but so much better having let out some steam. Thanks for being my sounding board, and I truly do wish you and yours all the best this next year. Play hard. Dream big. Do things that scare you.
Love like never before.
~C
