I’ve been struggling with writing down my thoughts lately. Maybe because I have nothing to say. My whole word around me is spinning and moving and changing. I’m just standing still. And I never thought it’d be this way because my entire life I haven’t stood still.
But these people I love, they’re making lives for themselves and one another. They’re changing in ways that leave me out, not on purpose, not intentionally but I work my way into people and I hang on for my life. In the past two days I have walked into three homes of close friends and they were different. Furniture moved, boxes gone, empty space and I couldn’t help but think, when did I miss this? When did so much time go by that I missed this? And how come they didn’t tell me? How come all the little things we used to tell each other have gotten lost?
Each time life barges in like this I call it quits. I say I’m done but if I’m telling the truth, ultimately I do get back up. Every time I have to get back up though? There’s another part of my heart hardened, another part of my soul black.
I look over at the clock on a Friday night and sigh because it’s too early to close my eyes for the night so I open a notebook and try to make sense of the deep-down-so-far-under-I’ll-never-find-it pain in the pit of my stomach. And I try to reason with the tears falling from my eyes and I beg God to make it feel better, please just an ounce of relief?
Yet I know tomorrow the sun will rise and I’ll pick myself up again and I’ll choose to be colder, to feel colder – like the hardened part of my soul. Because who really can do this life alone and still feel something?