My faith is fading. I can try to fight it but I just feel too much like I have been let down. I don’t care if that’s wrong and that I’m not allowed to question God. All the hope and excitement I felt for my life and my future a week ago now just feels like a ship sinking with her harbor in sight, and right now I don’t want to hear about how the timing was probably not right. I don’t care what lesson I am supposed to learn from this, the disappointment of it all makes it feel more like a bad joke by the universe than a learning experience.
The weather these days fits my mood perfectly, it almost made me want to go out and stand in the rain and ponder on the direction my life is going in but then again, no need to be quite so melodramatic, I thought to myself. Right now I’ll take any suggestions on how to stop this feeling like this; like a heavy tree was growing on my heart, weighing it down and its roots were piercing my lungs, slowly wrapping itself around it till it grew tighter and tighter.
I know I have a roof above my head and food on my table and that already makes me luckier than most, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but this time I have decided that I am going to give myself a chance to feel what I want to feel because I have kept my faith through every other shitty thing I have had to deal with and now I just want to know, why?
Why do we try to explain everything in terms of Gods will – I don’t even know what that means anymore.. Right now it just seems to be something we need to tell ourselves for comfort. When we feel completely helpless it feels good to believe that somebody is in control, and there’s always a possibility for things to drastically get better.
What if good things don’t happen to good people; but good things happen to people that good things always happen to? It makes more sense to me to explain this in terms of a mysterious force that worked on something like radio wave frequency that was different for every individual. Our lives have highs and lows but they always balance each other out and you can almost work out a pattern to the way things end up.
I don’t know what any of this means to be in terms of my faith. Only that this is the opposite of acceptance, it’s the bitter post written in an impulsive haste at a time when my life feels like it’s coming apart at the seams because I needed to begin trying to figure out what I believe in.
I didn’t get to choose my existence. You didn’t ask me if I wanted to be alive, if I wanted to experience life with all its moments of triumph and euphoria or shattering defeat. I didn’t get to select my personality or my characteristics like ingredients from a catalog or pick them out like they were series of labeled bottles displayed on a shelf. Nobody asked me if I wanted my mother’s eyes or my father’s temper.
Here I am, a brand new combination of features and quirks and likes and dislikes.
If I got to choose, I would have tried to make myself more likable to you. I might have picked a face that didn’t remind you of your ‘biggest mistake.’ I might have chosen to like the same things you like and want the same things you want. If I got to choose I would have recast every cell in my body to make you want me but this was not something I could have changed with change from within.
I know now, that what I am to you has nothing to do with me. My shortcomings are a reflection of your own insecurities. Your inability to trust or love with all your heart makes me look naive, your inability to allow yourself to dream once in a while makes my choices seem irrational and idiotic. They have swirled inside you like a poisonous dark cloud that spread long before my existence.
You should have given me a chance though… A chance to feel like I was worthy of love even if you were not the one who would. A chance to feel like my feelings mattered even if they didn’t matter to you. I shouldn’t have to walk on this earth feeling discarded and unwanted because of what I see when I look at myself through your eyes.
I am done beating myself up over things that could never be. I am done trying to solve a maze when you keep building new walls. My purpose on this earth cannot be limited simply to trying to please you. You think of yourself as the artist who will turn my life into a work of art but how do you plan on pulling that off when you can only see the world in shades of grey and gloom?
I don’t know what you want from me and I am done trying to deliver it. Trying to please you is like trying to recreate your favorite dish without a recipe while wearing a blindfold. I am given no clues as to what you expect, except when I am wrong. It’s an impossible maddening quest that I think I can walk away from now, without being called a quitter. It’s not quitting if I’ve tried for as long as you know I have. I think I lasted longer than most people would.