We have a flat tire on the car. Well, had. After repeated attempts at
loosening the bolts on the tire, we finally found success in removing
them, and then, the tire itself (without tearing any shoulder muscles,
though I’m fairly sure there was some cursing involved. Sorry. But
those bolts were on TIGHT). Dennis might have to miss work tomorrow to
get it fixed, since we really shouldn’t ride the spare any longer than
we need to.
Seeing as we needed to get the car checked out anyways- and will soon
need to get new tires, according to our last checkup- we may attempt to
kill several birds with one stone. And by we, I mean him, since he’s
done an increasing percentage of the driving of late.
Fun and games tonight, with 2 being the reccuring number. 2 rounds of bowling- second both times, if memory serves; 2 games of Scene It (Ryan
won both times), where some of the “Buzz” cards seemed to come up
twice, topped off by two glasses of Dr. Pepper (either that or Pepsi,
and you know I’m not touching that stuff).
And how many times did we drive down that alley before we found the apartment? That’s right. Two.
Speaking of driving (or, perhaps, not driving), I love being able to
walk to work or school, even in the winter. It’s one of the few times
I’m away from things, distractions, people, even when the knowledge
that I am going to work is foremost on my mind (or, the relief at being
done a shift). I keep meaning to get up early one morning, go sit in
that little park area on the way to the store, and just bask for a
while. Not be writing, or gaming, or doing something else to distract.
I remember Rob Collins, our small group leader back when I was in high
school (was that six years ago? I’m freaking ANCIENT now), and how he
introduced me to the idea of getting away from our ‘stuff’, and just
listening to God. When he took us camping, he sent us into the forest,
and told us not to come back until either we thought we’d heard what we
had to, or he honked the horn, which he assured would not do for a few
I haven’t done that for a while, and I know I need to. I have too
much stuff, too many things going on when I’m at home. I could go for a
walk, but let’s write this story. I could go read the Bible, but oh,
Stargate’s coming on. I could pray for my friends, my family, but let’s
go wax the floor with some poor sap at Madden football instead.
Yeah, it’s pretty cliche, but it doesn’t get cliche until it happens to everyone.
And now, for something completely different- going out on a limb here,
and hoping it won’t snap. Really angsty, but that’s unavoidable. I
don’t have an exact date on this, but a ballpark guess has it as being
a couple of years old.
Yeah, it was written with someone in particular in mind, but a lot of
my ‘romantic’ leanings tend to end up around here. Looking for
understanding- not pity. There IS a difference.
If you only knew. But if you did, you’d turn away.
That’s what I’d decided. I had it all figured out.
Put on the smile, the laugh, and walk away, with you none the wiser.
It was the perfect plan.
It didn’t work.
I was supposed to move on, forget. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This was not according to plan, not at all.
You stayed with me, all this time.
Not a day went by where I didn’t think about it- about you. Of regrets,
and chances not taken.
Of me, so afraid to step into the fire that I refused to even acknowledge it’s presence.
So afraid of exposing myself, of being rejected, of not measuring up.
You were perfect. I was, and am not.
If you knew me, saw my weakness (more than you had already), you would
not accept me. I was certain of this.
I had it all figured out.
In the light, you saw the smile, the laugh. Like the magician, you saw what I wanted you to see. You saw the walls I’d made.
But you didn’t see the tears, when
the walls crumbled, at home, alone. The frustration. The
second-guessing. The longing, that I worked so hard to hide. I wasn’t
good enough, and would never be. You could never know. That was what
was best. At least, that’s what I’d thought.
The perfect plan- by an imperfect man. And thus, doomed to failure.
It is still with me, now- and I stay
with the plan, like the captain, with his ship sinking around him.
‘Why?’ some part of me asks, as it has all this time. ‘Resolve this.
But I have tried. Lord help me, I
can’t. It remains, even after time, distance, and seperate paths.
Against all definable logic, it remains. It wasn’t supposed to be like
And still, I push you away. You must never know.
I’d feel terrible ending on that depressing note, so I’ll continue with some (hopefully) intelligent discourse.
I felt like sharing that piece, as ‘that’ subject has been occupying my mind of late. At least in part courtesy of some other intelligent thoughts on
it, though some workmates have helped that track as well. One in particular
observed that he thought that my next romantic relationship would be an
excellent, stable one- as I was grounded, patient, and willing to
listen. Having had trouble in his own relationship in part due to a
lack of those things, he suspected that those qualities would bode well
I thanked him for his encouragement (admittedly, I took it with a grain
of salt, as he’s been trying to set me up for months), but there was a
bitter part of me that wondered: then why isn’t it happening? Why
hasn’t it happened? And this inevitably leads to that self-analysis
that so dominates my wandering thoughts.
Again- looking for understanding, and hoping to provoke an intelligent thought or three. Not
pity. I already get the “You’ll find someone” bit enough from Mom,
I think that’s it for now. Hope that limb didn’t snap.
EDIT: Thanks to everyone that comments faithfully, and even to those of
you who have the chutzpah to do it face-to-face. You say very nice
things, and I really do appreciate them.