My dearest readers and beautiful faces,
I apologize in advance for the amount of typos and repetitions. This was written late last night and most likely full of mistakes. I do not, however, want to change any of it because it’s authentic. It’s real, and I think that’s why I started this. To be real.
I’m having one of those movie moments where you sort of discover everything about yourself in one second and then forget tit the next. I’m a young woman trying to find herself in college and what do I have? Baggage. Baggage that’s heavy and suffocating and I am done letting control me.
So here I go. I’m telling you the rest of the ten months since that stupid, lonely version of myself asked that boy to kiss me. I’m done reliving it and drowning in guilt at what some people might not see as too terrible, but what I know was the worst thing I could have done. I didn’t have sex, or drink, or do drugs, or party, or kill anyone—any of those horrible things. No, I did something worse.
I idolized someone other than my God. My beautiful, wonderful God who sees my faults and loves me anyways. The one I should adore endlessly, my truest love in life that I walked away from. The God who hasn’t patched my heart, but healed it through His mercy and grace that I definitely do not deserve. I put someone in place of Him and that was the worst thing I could’ve picked to do at that moment.
After Bryan and I made out in his driveway, we became inseparable. We consistently wanted each other close to hold and to kiss. We both wanted to feel wanted. He needed validation after he and Adelaide broke up, and I needed the attentions of the boy I had yearned for, for so long. I wanted to drown in him.
And I did.
I fell impossibly harder. On New Year’s Eve, he was the one I was hiding in a corner and kissing at four o’clock in the morning. I relished in the way he kissed my neck and ran his hands over my body and how he said he never wanted to stop touching me. He always wanted to be close to me, to feel as good as we did. He told me.
And I ate it up like mama’s apple pie. I consumed it and let my desire for him consume me. I tasted the tobacco on his lips and he became my addiction. I craved him, I sighed when he touched me, and I watched him when we were with others, knowing he was watching me to.
Notice all the “I’s”? (that was horrible grammar, I’m pretty sure it’s all wrong!). I was so selfish, only thinking about what I wanted and how I could keep him happy so that he wouldn’t walk away from me. Apparently, however, I did not try hard enough, because he also went looking somewhere else for validation.
Remember Penelope? The broken girl who I was so close to in those months?
Well, one day we were hanging out at Timothy’s (the perfect one) house, and Bryan and I had a moment alone. I laughed and told him about a conversation I had with Penelope. By that time, somewhere in January, he figured out that Penelope knew, and sometimes it was mentioned. I told him how Penelope said “You guys are so lucky, I wish I had a friend I could just make out with!”
“Well, I mean,” he shrugged with a laugh in his eyes. “I’m more than willing.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Yeah. Tell her that I—“
“No,” I stopped him. “If you want to kiss her, you ask her. I’m not doing it.”
So he did. He told me about it. Bryan asked me if I cared, and like an idiot I said no, and they kissed. Penelope made out in the back of his truck, the same place I did, with Bryan. It made me sick to my stomach to think of it, but I’d just had him for a month and I was most certainly not going to walk away from that. So I ignored it.
Until, at least, one day we are making out on my couch while my parents weren’t home (I’m not proud of the lies I told my parents; I’ve told them the truth and they’ve forgiven me like the merciful Christians they are).
So, Bryan and I are kissing. I’m sitting in his lap and I am in bliss, his lips on mine and his arms around my waist. His hands were in my hair. I couldn’t breathe because of the intensity of the kiss and he pulls back and starts talking about Penelope.
“I definitely prefer your body type over Pen’s…” he murmured in my ear. I pulled back slightly to look at him and he gave me a half smile I had been so in love with. “Well, except for when she kisses my nose. She does really cute stuff like that.”
He talked about her.
While I was on top of him.
He left shortly after that because he had class to get to. For once, I didn’t have work, and I was completely alone in my house. I sat on the ground in front of my door and cried those ugly sobs that I’m so good at, and I held my knees and curled into myself, praying I could forget him talking about another girl while his hand crept up my torso. I prayed that I could feel his kisses without feeling nauseous and thinking of Penelope’s on his.
Yeah, I know, I’m super melodramatic. Moving on.
So I told him I was done about a week later. I explained that I had fallen extremely hard for him and that I could no longer carry on in a casual relationship while he was with someone else. I couldn’t have any romantic or physical interest in him. He respected that, Penelope saw my pain, and she told him they were done too. Penelope and I were closer, and Bryan was the one I still so wanted. The week before Valentine’s Day, I found myself completely alone and wanting him.
Well, the weekend after Valentine’s Day, I get text message from the oh-so-lovely Bryan. We talk, he apologizes (over text, as per usual), and he tells me that he had feelings for me too. Bryan wanted something real, and he wanted it with me. He didn’t want to lose me.
Naturally, I was all for the idea. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be with someone else, though. We progressed forward as if we would be able to be together; I sought advice from my closest friends, a blessing from Adelaide, a blessing from my mother, and the understanding of Jenny and Rose. The latter two were not at all on the side of “Yes, date Bryan” but they loved and supported me, no matter what. Bryan and I talked, we grew impossibly closer, I learned his dark secrets, and I told him the truth: that I loved him. I craved his heart and his body, and he had mine for whatever he wanted. He was in charge of where we stood emotionally, which was pretty distant at some times, but I did not care because I had more of him than I thought I would ever had again. I had talks late into the night and sweet good morning texts. I had kisses when my parents weren’t home and cuddles when they were.
On a weekend in March, Rose came home for spring break from college. My beautiful, intelligent, God—fearing, wonderful and level headed friend returned in the time that I now know God wanted her to. He sent her back home to me. He sent the two of us to Cookout for late night French fries and ice cream. (No, like legit, it was about ehhhh 10:30 when we showed up!) I ended up talking about everything with Rose. I shared all my doubts and my fears, but also my hopes. We talked about how Bryan made comments about me being a disgusting eater, me looking okay except I needed a little eyeliner, and him thinking about another girl when we’re making out.
It was more than that, though. I talked about the way I felt about him, how wonderful it was to have even the smallest piece of him and of the good things he did, the good ways he made me feel. We weighed the endless amount of pros and cons of the list and eventually came to the conclusion that I was making a mistake and I wasn’t glorifying God. I was glorifying Bryan and my feelings for him, lifting him up so that I idolized the relationship we could have.
Nobody should feel that way about another human being. Passionate love can exist, yes, but not in the way I felt it. It needed to stop.
So I told him no. I told him that I had some stuff to fix with God and that I needed to figure myself out.
Do you know what he said a day and a half later?
“I love you. Do you get how hard that is for me?”
I replied with, “And I love you too, but this isn’t our time. You weren’t ready, I’m not ready…it isn’t time.”
A couple months later, we got into May and I told him to move on. I said he could find somebody else, and he did…two weeks later. Two weeks later, he was dating a friend of mine, also named Jenny but nowhere near as wonderful as my darling Jenny from high school. They entered into a relationship with the agreement that they would have fun before college and break it off later. It was twisted, but they seemed happy enough. All the people in my life were finding significant others and there I was, bitterly alone and pining for a guy that I knew I shouldn’t have and that I couldn’t have.
By the time that summer was over and I was headed to the same wonderful college as Rose and Bryan, I had a moment of realization: I was still idolizing him. I still wanted him in a desperate way, and being even close to him was simultaneously exhilarating and painful. So, I told him that I couldn’t be around him, that we couldn’t keep being best friends, because it drove my heart and my mind insane. He told me that my relationship with God was the top priority, and that he understood. We both cried and held each other for what we thought would be the last time. For at least an hour, he whispered sweet nothings to me.
I think they’re called sweet nothings for a reason; they don’t mean crap.
I don’t want to talk about the pain I felt that night, or the next couple of days, because how I felt about him isn’t what matters anymore. I’ve been trying to keep this as emotionless as I can, because I’m trying to put aside those feelings and move forward.
Anyways. It’s not October, and I think I’m finally ready to keep going. About two weeks ago, Bryan and I had a real long talk. He’s single and has been for about two months. We were both still wanting each other. We wanted the passionate feelings and the happy fuzzies. We wanted to be in a relationship with our best friend, the person who knew everything about us and loved us anyway. We craved that in each other, and a part of me still wanted it. Despite having a summer of spiritual growth and a beginning of the school year figuring who I was, a part of me still desperately wanted him.
So we spent a long time talking. For three hours, we sat on a bench and talked about our frustrations. I told him how I felt like he didn’t care anymore and that I was the only one still struggling with this. Like he’d moved on and been fine. I initiated any kind of contact between us (except for that night; he’s actually the one who wanted to talk). I was the one who was still missing him, who was still hurting from the roller coaster ride of a year we’d been on with each other. He told me that he really did love me, but that he’d been pulling away because it was easier. So while I dealt with being the one lying on the ground in pieces, he was trying to move on.
I felt pretty pathetic, not gonna lie.
But then he said that he wanted me still. If we put two wills together, two wills fighting for the same thing, we could overcome it all. It was all about will.
I told him I didn’t have a will anymore. It was gone. He took my love and words and destroyed it. He destroyed my meaning and use of “love” to get what he wanted and to keep me where he wanted. He left me alone and found someone else to make him feel good while I struggled. I had spent the past ten months fighting to stay happy and positive and not let him control me, and I was done.
I told him that.
He told me that he was stepping back from his faith.
I told him that I would not defy my parents (who, after everything between Bryan and I, had taken away their permission for me to be with Bryan; my dad cannot stand the thought of us being together and has clearly stated that we he will never give me permission or blessing to be with him). I told him I wouldn’t defy my faith in God (I knew that I could not save him, only God can and I very much so hope Bryan can come out of his newly proclaimed Atheism). I told him I wouldn’t defy the new standards about myself because I deserved someone who treated me better and who wanted me in the good ways, not just the bad ones.
Full disclosure: I TAKE COMPLETE RESPONSIBILITY FOR EVERYTHING THAT WENT DOWN.
Yeah, I’m not a complete idiot. I know that it wasn’t all Bryan’s fault. We were both in the wrong, I knew that, and I had a large part of the blame for us starting out. I knew what I was doing when I started our fling, but I didn’t care because I wanted him in the way that he had me. But, I also now see how he used my feelings to get what he wanted, when he wanted it. Neither of us are good for each other.
So here I am. Bryan was my epic, passionate love that I wanted from the movies. He was my one true earth love, my heart and soul, and it is okay that we aren’t together. It’s actually good. Though I’m now left with a patched up heart and a list of songs I can’t listen to, I know that its going to be okay. I have loving, powerful God who is my fortress when I am weak, who I praise for loving me, even when I feel like this. I know He will heal me in time, and I just need to learn to rely fully on Him.
God is my epic love. Not Bryan. God is my truest love, my most sincere passion, and the reason I walk and breathe across the earth. God is my strength and reliance, and I fall before Him with the love I feel and the repentance I should have felt long ago. Like the magnificent God He is, he’s forgiven me. I’m thankful that Christ died for me to do this, for me to be able to simply fall before Him and acknowledge my wrongdoings.
I’m thankful that I can now see how my love for God should be all-consuming and worshipful. I know He is the only thing I need, and I’m at peace with that. There is nobody on earth who should or can take His place. I was meant to love Him, and I will. I yearn for His love and grace, and I have received it, and I won’t ever stop, because He is good and faithful.
I don’t need to keep revisiting the past. I don’t need to continue reliving the worst things I’ve done and the mistakes I made, because I am new and clean in His eyes, and that’s all that matters. I don’t have to look back because He’s washed me clean.
Where else to go from here, except forward?