I cry very often these days.And when I'm not crying, it's just because I'm too busy or too exhausted to do so. As soon as I have a real moment to myself that lasts longer than a few minutes, I cry.
I know precisely the reason. You probably do, too. I'm transparent and honest enough that it's not very hard to figure out.
So here it is: I feel terribly, utterly, and definitely lonesome.
And it's not just the I-haven't-had-a-boyfriend-in-a-while kind of lonesomeness. It's the deep, dark kind that one gets from years of feeling alone, never quite finding a true home in any man's heart -- and wondering if she ever will.
Equally sad is the realization that the very attributes that disenchanted me with others (no passion for life, no self-love, no optimism, but plenty of fear) are precisely the characteristics that I am now acquiring. God is indeed keeping me humble by allowing me to experience even those things which I hoped I would not.
Like a tulip that closes when the sky becomes dark, these experiences have started to close the protective petals around my mind, emotions, and heart -- and perhaps this is why I have spoken about my eyes being "closed" to many things also. But perhaps it is okay to be closed right now. The inner workings of this flower--I am learning--are quite fragile and delicate.
So I'm reluctant to invest time in a new relationship, and my reservation has not made it easy for anyone new to get to know me. I hide behind the words of this blog because I'm scared to ever hand over the key to my heart again. I have finally become the depressed, frightened girl that I used to criticize for not having hope.
"Congratulations," my friend Dana told me tonight, "You are now emo."
I have officially become what I almost never was for the last 29 years: unequivocally, very deeply SAD. For the record and contrary to what you might think, this is--indeed--the very saddest time of my life.
