Snowy Sleeplessness

It seems I have forgotten how to sleep.  And it would be so easy to blame in on the snow, because the white blanket outside makes it seem like there’s light out forever.  Maybe I need darkness.  But really, when I shut it all out, there is darkness.  So why am I still awake?

My life is pretty great right now.  Even with all the bad in it, I am content.  Because there is so much good in it as well, so much to be thankful for.
Yet I still feel that prickle in the back of my mind.  And maybe it will always be there.  It’s not something I’m going to act on, because I am so much stronger than this, but it’s still there, as if it’s waiting for me.
My heart aches for it, even with all the harm it could cause.  So let’s talk.
Sometimes I wish I could slice myself open and disappear.  Maybe because that would be so much easier.  I wouldn’t have to worry about making it then, because I would have already made it.  I would have already arrived.
I thought my life would be so much more than this.  I thought I would have my book written, or some spoken word recorded, or maybe I would be living in England pursuing my Masters.  I hoped so much for simplicity and success.  But in all honesty, maybe I’m not ready for that.
I’m here because, after all my striving, I am finally learning vulnerability.  I try so hard to push everyone away when they get too close.  I can’t ever let anyone know what’s going on inside.  I am so out of touch with my feelings, that whenever I feel anything at all, I bolt so that I don’t get hurt.  I hate getting hurt.

I feel like I have been lied to.  I feel like I am being constantly misunderstood.  I feel like I’m being taught all these things that I have already learned and developed my opinions on.  And then I am being talked down to like I know nothing at all.
Intruders come into my life and touch all my things.  And I’m paying them to be there.  And being lied to about the price.
I am being asked to simplify my faith, and then given examples that make it more complicated with extra details.
I am given lessons in theology like it’s not something I went over my freshman year of college.
I’m saying I’m better than any of this or smarter than any of this, I just want to be heard.  I just want to be understood.  I just want to be asked what I really think, and then not told that I am wrong, because I’m not wrong.  How can any of us even be right if none of the answers we can know for certain?
How did I end up here?

There is someone I could so easily go back to.  Someone who doesn’t need to talk or ask questions or know me.  Someone who just wants me to be there.  But they are so bad for me.  And there could be someone new.  But I’d never let that happen, because having real feelings could cause real hurt, and I’ve never been good enough for a Christian guy before.
Because even with all my knowledge, with my studies and my writing and my music, there’s just something wrong.  I spend too much time putting someone else’s supposed projections onto my identity, that I never stop to ask or believe what anyone else thinks.  Because every time I get my hopes up, they get let down before they can be crushed.

This isn’t who I am though.  This isn’t where my identity lives, I just let it rest here for a while.  I want so much to be someone different, someone better, the best possible version of myself.  But instead I’m stuck here, being forced into some box and expected to play the part of someone I’m not.  I was never even given a script.

So come find me here, because I’m waiting.

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