Everything Is Hard Sometimes

So, I got engaged 2 months ago. And everything has been a whirlwind. Because I’m getting married in February, and that’s 3 months away and I don’t know what I need help with but I feel like everyone has an opinion. But it’s our wedding. It’s my and Bobby’s wedding. So the only opinion that should matter is our own.

We were only supposed to be here 3 months. But we’ve been here 6. So we’re trying to move. And moving is hard. Finding new jobs is hard. Finding a place to live is hard. And I’m so afraid we can’t do it. I’m so afraid that moving home and all the things since have been a terrible mistake. Even though I love my job. Even though I make enough. There’s never been anything for me here. And there’s definitely nothing here for Bobby. He’s why we’re leaving. Because he gave up everything to move across the country with me. But things have only gone wrong. If I could turn back time, I probably would have done things differently.

I’m depressed and everything feels hard. I’ve been off my meds since the summer, because I couldn’t get health insurance. And apparently my home church has changed so much that I’m not allowed to be depressed here. Because depression obviously means that the love of my life isn’t really the love of my life. Even though he is. And he was there for me when no one else was. What a great way to make me not feel at home in my home.

But mostly, I just miss my mom. I hate planning a wedding without her. I hate that she won’t be there when I marry my best friend. I hate that she’s never met him. And I hate that I can’t even talk about it.

Staying Put

(I seem to write a lot of blogs in airports)

I just spent a week in California.  I flew into Reno last Monday and got to spend one day in Mammoth, my home, before venturing onward to Crescent City to be a part of an old friend’s wedding.  Back in Alabama, I was so excited for this trip, and everyone kept telling me to enjoy my vacation.  But I knew it wasn’t a vacation.  I don’t remember how to vacation.  I’ve forgotten how to rest.

My day in Mammoth I tried to run around and see people, but instead was monopolized by someone who cannot have my heart.  I had dinner with my parents.  It’s too hard when your minutes are too few.
My best friend and I drove to her parents’ house near San Jose on Wednesday, and onward to Crescent City, up at the top of the state, on Thursday.  We went to straight into Bachelorette party mode.  We drank and it was loud and I was tired.  Already drained, before anything had even begun.  My heart had been left behind me.
Friday we ran around picking flowers and finding teapots and books for bouquets and center pieces.  It never occurred to me that all of this wouldn’t be done before the day before the wedding.  My heart wasn’t there, I had left it behind me.  I was drained.  But weddings will never be about the bridesmaids, and it was so important that I do everything I can to make the day and all the preparations go smoothly.  I think I had forgotten what I was getting myself into.
The wedding day my dress was too long.  There were bugs and heat, and then sudden coldness, so I wore a sweater to the reception.  The bride was beautiful.  She is so in love, and there is no doubt that Josh is the one for her.  She has wanted this for so long.  But I simultaneously drank too much and not enough.  My heart was not there.  I lost it somewhere.
Yesterday my best friend and I drove 10 hours to be back to Mammoth so I could go to Lighthouse and see the people I hadn’t gotten to see yet.  However, after the whole day, the whole week, I didn’t want to see anyone.  I’m out of money and I haven’t eaten and all I wanted was to sleep, but there were things to be done.
I saw who I could, but left before any real conversations were had.  I got picked up for dinner by the one who has my heart, but was too tired to function.  Waking up with my memory erased.

I don’t regret this trip, but I regret this trip.  I regret coming home too soon.  I need to find my heart and drag it to Alabama with me.  I think it’s time that I stay put.  God keeps saying, “Stay put.”
I want to plan more trips, but I’m never going to be happy and rested in my travels if I keep trying to do everything all the time.  I want my life to be an adventure, but it’s time to learn to adventure where I live first.  Start small.  Embrace your reality.

So I told the one who has my hear to give it back.  I won’t be visiting anymore.  Not until I have someone to visit with.  Not until I’m healthy enough to be who I was, versus who I am.

Because I don’t have a drinking problem, but when I drink, I drink a lot.
I don’t have a drug problem, but if someone’s offering, I’ll accept.
I don’t have a guy problem, but my heart latches onto anyone who will let it.
I don’t have a money problem, but I forgot that moving to a different culture means adjusting to a different budget.
I don’t have an eating disorder, but it’s really hard to eat when your heart beats for someone else.

I keep finding all the ways that I am broken.  But in reality, I am one whole person.  We all have a story.  Maybe someday I’ll be able to share all of mine.  Maybe someday I’ll be able to be completely honest about why my heart is still broken, rather than broken again.  But until then, here’s one piece.  Just one more piece.

I’m breaking up with California.  I’m ready to be freed.

Bearing News

Do you want to hear a love story?  

I went to a wedding on Saturday.  It was my very first college roommate’s wedding.  I love her with a large portion of my heart, and her love story is one of the best.

When Jenny was in first grade, she met a boy named Shannon.  He was her first crush.  She spent most of her life having a crush on Shannon, but never took it further than that.  
Shannon knew Jenny all through school, but never super well.  In their senior year of high school, the two of them started to build an actual friendship.  Shannon was afraid at first to take their friendship any further, because he knew that if he dated Jenny, he’d never date anyone else; he knew that Jenny was a girl you marry.
The summer before they both started college in separate states, Jenny and Shannon came up with the idea to go on a practice date, because Shannon had not dated in high school and wanted to be prepared for college.  Their practice date quickly became a real date.  They were together for maybe a month, give or take, and Jenny went away to college in California, while Shannon stayed to do college in Oregon.  
I met Jenny on move-in day.  We both had new boyfriends that were long-distance.  However, my long-distance relationship only lasted until Easter, while Jenny’s was still going strong. 
They spent the summer together, and when they were apart they talked on the phone whenever they could.  They could not visit each other often, but they knew almost every detail of each other’s life.  
Jenny did a semester abroad her third year of college.  Now, not only were her and Shannon long-distance, they weren’t even in the same country, let alone the same timezone.  But they made it through.
Last Christmas, Shannon enlisted all of Jenny’s college friends in helping him come up with the perfect proposal.  He had us all meet her in special places at the college and read notes about how much we loved her and how much we would miss her, because she was finishing a semester early.  She had no idea that this was all leading up to Shannon’s note and proposal.  She thought it would still be a year before he was ready.  So her proposal was a complete surprise.  
I led Jenny down to a candlelit gazebo where Shannon stood with flowers and ring.  He got down on one knee and she said yes.  
They had spent more of their relationship apart than together, but they are better at communicating than any other couple I’ve heard of.  And on Saturday they said “I do” to a lifetime of never being apart again. 

 

But enough of that.  
There was a bear IN my house yesterday morning.  I wasn’t there because I was on my way back from Oregon, but I guess it ate the trash and all of my roommate’s groceries that were on the counter.  And he keeps coming back.  What if I get eaten?!

Lacking Creativity

Lacking creativity, I sit here at my keyboard, searching for the right words to put down.  It seems that there should be so much to say, and that I should have so much to reflect on, but I’d rather spin fiction than share the trivial thoughts that are on my mind.  Yet, I don’t write at all.  I have characters that need developing, but it’s almost as if I’ve fallen out of love with them.  However, I realize that maybe characters are like any other person, and that if we don’t spend time enough time with them, we forget what once was so powerfully drawing us toward them.  And I realize further that this is what God is like.  Until this week, it had been months since I had sat down and spent significant amounts of intentional time with Him.  And it’s still not enough.  I want to fall in love with Him again.  I want to fall in love.  That’s it.

See, most would expect me to mention that I graduated from college more than a week ago.  And as that was such a big moment in my life, I find it pales in comparison to what it would be if I had gotten my degree in something that I actually plan on using.  I want to be a writer, although I have been writing so much less than I should if I wish to actually call myself a writer.  Yet I digress.  If I had gotten my degree in journalism or literature or creative writing I would probably be freaking out and loudly announcing that I had surely walked across a stage and received a diploma for a degree that I was passionate about.

God’s funny like that, isn’t He?  As a fifteen year old girl I was certain that I had a heart for youth, assuming that meant being a youth pastor.  God audibly called me to attend Life Pacific College.  Soon after beginning my college career I realized that I don’t want to be in vocational ministry in any form at all, and soon after that I found my passion as a writer.  God told me to write, and I still haven’t finished anything to be proud of.  I tried to leave school, but I knew that LIFE was where I was meant to stay.  After four years of perseverance, I have finished and I have my Bachelors, and now I have even less certainty about my future than I did a year ago.  I know what I’m doing with my summer.  I know I plan to move to Portland in August.  But how easily can everything change?  So I still wonder why God called me to LPC at all?

I went to a wedding yesterday.  It was by far the best wedding I had ever attended.  I even regained the courage I had in high school, if only temporarily, and talked to a cute guy.  Yet I still don’t feel compelled to write so many words about it.  I often say that I don’t believe in soulmates, but I know that Erica and Robbie are truly meant for each other.  It makes me wonder if maybe some people do have soulmates.  It makes me wonder if I have a soulmate, if people will one day say, “they’re meant for each other,” about me and some man.

Does anyone have any creativity they’d like to send my way?  Do you have any extra motivation?