Yesterday I talked about option one: that he acts the way he does because even though it’s not what he wants, it the least painful/most wise of his given options. Which I don’t want to believe because I just don’t agree. (I do agree on some levels. I agree that we needed to break up because, well….he was the leader and it’s what he decided. But I don’t agree that things couldn’t be better.)
Now on to the second option to explain how we interact:
He doesn’t love me. Not only doesn’t love, but doesn’t care about . Cause if you don’t care about someone, it makes perfect sense that you would…. acknowledge when they are around, and do nothing outside of that.
I don’t want to believe this one because it just plain hurts. But the truth is that, like I said before, it makes sense. It’s the most obvious of all possible reasons, and it’s the confirmation of what I’ve feared for a long time: that I’m not really lovable. Or good enough. (A lie I believe, or a truth, at least in human terms?)
So now you have it. When I think about how much I don’t want my current un-relationship, or whatever, to be the way it is, I try to think of why it is. And I think either a) cause he loves me and he’s dumb and won’t do things the way I would do them (and after all isn’t that always the right thing? Yes, this is sarcasm and an acknowledgement of my blatantly stupidity and refusal to trust) OR b) he doesn’t care about me (and what’s that about, because doesn’t he know I’m a pretty good catch? Yes, this is humor attempting to mask the double sided vanity that I can so easily embrace.)
And thinking either of these things makes me sad. And sometimes, they make me MAD. They make me want to shake him and say all kinds of things to put him in his place. And let me tell you, in my wicked little mind, I can come up with some sharp things to say….
Or I could… when I had my fire.
(to be concluded tomorrow)
Sidenote: D0es it get exhausting to read these things, to know that a blessed, loved, often spoiled girl with lots of friends and a great relationship with God can get so tangled up in confusing emotions and cares so much about someone not caring about her? Well, it gets exhausting to FEEL it, too. So I say it, and I write it, and I pray against it again and again. And I share because part of “to live is Christ and to die is gain,” means admitting that I am a lost little lamb, and pleading openly for my shepherd.