I just realized I love you.

I realized it as you told me you would be gone for awhile.

I don’t know if I’m in love with you.

But I do love you.

I only want the absolute best for you. Whether that’s me or not.

And that thought hurts. Badly.

But that’s how I know.

I love you.

I’m not saying I deserve to have someone. I’m no better than anyone else. But I do wonder, why? I try hard to be ok with the idea that maybe it’s not in the Lord’s plan for me to find someone. Most days, I am ok with that. And I love seeing couples who are truly happy and are living life together. I feel joy when I see that the Lord has brought two people together! I don’t envy people who have someone.

My heart aches sometimes to have someone who gets me (or at least, tries to get me)…someone I can sit with, hold hands with, experience life with…who feels I’m important to have in his life.

I know the Lord is always there, for me and with me. I shouldn’t be missing anything…right? I don’t know. So many things have happened to my heart lately, including those from my past, I’m not sure if this is a preparation for something coming or maybe a sign to get used to this feeling.

You know God…He knows you. But you still live your life without Him at the head of it. This isn’t judgment. I have nothing to judge anyone for; but, as your sister in Him, it hurts to see how far away from Him you move in things you do.

You could be a warrior for Him. You do good things. You have such a giving heart! But I see the things that could hurt you, that could trip you up, and you run straight for them. And there’s nothing I can do to stop you.

I know you know what you should do. And I pray someday, with Him by your side, you do it.

I had no idea that seeing you, after so long of no interaction, no words, would affect me like that. I was fighting back tears as I sat alone in the auditorium; my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a giant fist and it was forcing tears up and out of me. I didn’t know I missed you, our conversations & your friendship, that much. The calls, the hugs, the comfort and discussions.

You said you loved me. But then you were gone. We were both at fault. Then I reached out to see if you wanted to mend things. You said you did. And then you were gone. Again. Nothing. Nothing left to mend.

I’ve moved on and kept going, growing and developing. Became a leader. Became a student. Working to become a servant. And I pray for you often, that you are continiuing to do the same.

But it crushed me, seeing you. Not being able to just walk up to you for a hug, without this rift, between us. My heart hurts. The cracks I thought healed opened a bit yesterday. Maybe, someday, they will fully heal.

Or maybe you’ve left your mark on my heart forever.

I’m horrible at keeping up with things. I really suck at it. But I’m going to give this another shot. There’s so much inside that needs to come out; unfortunately, I don’t normally have the words to speak it to those around me.

Some of you may find it interesting. Some of you may not. I’m ok either way, because this is more for me than anyone else. To help heal, to help scream what’s inside me, to get it out. It may seem jumbled sometimes…what feelings don’t? It may seem harsh or dramatic…and it may be the case.

This is me, in nouns, verbs, and adjectives. In adverbs, descriptors, and run-on sentences. Sometimes eloquent, sometimes rough — always authentic.

I am my own prisoner.

I make my own prison.

I know the way out.

But my feet won’t move.

My heart won’t feel.

My soul is sinking.

My hands reach out.

But my feet won’t move.

I am alone.

Cut off by fear.

Afraid to fail again.

Please Lord, make my feet move.

Down to the bone tired;

Down to the soul tired;

Deep, dark, weariness;

Never seems to fade.

Always somewhere

Waiting to emerge.

Chest is heavy;

Breathing is hard;

Body is leadened;

By the weariness.

There is Light;

There is Salvation;

Seems out of reach

of my heavy hands.

Prayer rises;

The sun rises;

Each day again,

Tired just the same.

I fell down on my knees tonight,

Tears streaming down my face.

Angry and sad and scared and mad,

Begging for the Lord’s sweet grace.

I fell down on my knees tonight,

Face hidden in my hands.

Sobbing loud and crying out,

Calling to the Great I Am.

My heart is breaking, not for me,

But those I love instead.

“Please God, help them. Don’t let go.

Protect them, O Precious Godhead.”

I prayed down on my knees tonight,

Prostrate and bowed down low.

“Hear my plea, dear Jesus, Lord.

Give it to you. And let it go.”

Not that I actually date, mind you. Maybe I should have said, “Ohhh, attempting to date. How I hate you.” I’m not sure anyone actually dates anymore. Not in the historical sense of dating at least. Dating used to mean actually getting to know someone before becoming involved or considering yourself in a relationship with that person; taking your time to get to know them and see where the two of you may end up.

Now dating seems to be: meet, sleep together which equals being in a relationship, becoming involved at light speed, then being surprised when problems arise (because it’s not as if you actually know this person, right?) and the inevitable break up. Rinse and repeat.

This is not my MO. Maybe at one time, when I didn’t value myself as much as I should, it was. I’m not proud of that. But luckily I have found my value again, as a unique human being and a child of God (a VERY imperfect one!). But unfortunately, the majority of the dating pool out there doesn’t seem to get it. Not even close.

I’m on a site called POF — Plenty of Fish. It should be called POC — Plenty of Crap. I’m pretty much on this site for the entertainment value of it. I’ve screenshot many a conversation and posted them in a girls’ group I’m in on FB — even posted one on my profile, to exhibit the worst type of guy one is likely to find on this site…or who is likely to find you. But I started to notice something that seemed to be a recurring issue. I would have guys, very good looking guys, message me, tell me I’m cute, beautiful, etc. Flattering, right? Of course it is!

Then they would start in with the heavy handed…flirting? Intimating that they would be open to some physical activity…with me, someone they’ve never met (uhhh what?). How is that even an attractive offer? And, as soon as I shoot it down, even nicely, they ghost. Gonzo. Ciao. Even if getting to know one another or going out on a date had been previously mentioned (not that I’d want to go out with anyone who acted like that), it became glaringly obvious one thing was wanted and one only. Note: I have it on my profile that I’m a Christian. Not too many of these dudes read apparently.

Now, I get a lot of messages on the site that aren’t just about sex…but from the “hot” guys (I mean physically because obviously mentally, they are not attractive), it’s always propositions. I mentioned this in the girls’ group I’m in and a lot of the girls like me, who are curvy (and they are gorgeous!) get asked for sex. Just sex. It’s like these guys think, because we may be heavier or curvier, that we are going to be SOOOO happy to have the attention that we will just lay down for any one who offers. Oh, how grateful we should be! Puke.

I’m putting this out there for two reasons:

One, if just one of those guys (ahem…jerks) sees this and realizes that doing such a thing to vibrant, amazing, beautiful women who just happens to be curvy/heavy is crass, rude and completely uncalled for, I’d consider it a win.

But the second reason is to remind those ladies who are curvy that we are amazing and worthy of time being spent on us…we are worthy of effort…we are worthy of respect and being treated with dignity. Because being treated like we are just pieces of meat that are to be screwed and then tossed aside can be quite jarring and a hit to our self-esteem. Personally, I consider myself lucky in that I can see it as a commentary on the dude versus a commentary on myself; I know my value in God’s eyes and those that love me. But being curvy can be tough for a girl and not everyone has a strong sense of worth.

Being curvy/heavier does not equal easy…it does not equal loose…it does not equal a way to get laid without much effort. Being curvy does equal being amazing…being wonderful…being more than those jerks could ever understand or handle.

Sledgehammer (sung by Rihanna, written by Sia)

“I hit a wall, I never felt so low, so low
Like a waterfall, my tears dropped to the floor (the floor…)
They left a swimming pool of salted crimes, crimes
(Ohh) what could I do to change your mind?
Nothing!

I’m bracing for the pain and I am letting go
I’m using all my strength to get out of this hole

I hit a wall, I thought that I would hurt myself
Oh I was sure, your words would leave me unconscious
And on the floor I’d be lying cold, lifeless
But I hit a wall, I hit ’em all, watch the fall

You’re just another brick and I’m a sledgehammer…
You’re just another brick and I’m a sledgehammer…

Yeah I hit a wall, I prayed that I would make it through (make it through)
I can’t survive a life that’s without you, that’s without you, yeah
And I will rise up from the ashes now, the ashes now
Oh the sparrow flies with just the crumbs of loving spilled, yeah

I was bracing for the pain and then I let it go
I gathered all my strength and I found myself whole

I hit a wall, I thought that I would hurt myself
Oh I was sure, your words would leave me unconscious
And on the floor I’d be lying cold, lifeless
But I hit a wall, I hit ’em all, watch the fall

You’re just another brick and I’m a sledgehammer…
You’re just another brick and I’m a sledgehammer…
You’re just another brick and I’m a sledgehammer…

(You’re just another brick and I’m a sledgehammer…)”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXhIT4MpRis