Rain.

I woke up today to another misty morning. The kind that when you drive, you never actually see the raindrops, but your windshield wipers still need to be on; the kind of weather that you know better than to straighten your hair, but your hair never really gets wet.  

I love those mornings. 

A perfect day to sit in a coffee shop, drink some hot tea, and read a good book.  sigh. 


It's funny how the weather can determine our moods, and can dramatically change how we relate to one another.  Why should the sun or snow determine our friendships and quality of life?

Rain makes us do funny things.

I grin (rather stupidly) at my computer as I remember last month's rainstorm.  The joy on all of the campers faces when they saw the rain and ran out in it, to find that they were already knee deep in water.  To hear them laugh as they canoed across camp.  To see some of them praying on the dock in the storm, because when they are in the middle of the storms they can sense their maker's presence.  Why must we grow up? 

Or last night, when a guy from my high school was trapped out in the rain.  We may not have talked in over six years, but like I said, rain makes us do funny things. So he called me.  Logical? Maybe not. 

But sometimes being illogical is the most logical. 

Thank you for enlightening me, rainy weather. 

Present.

I want to live. 

Really live. 

Live in the here and now, in the present.  


My friends try so hard to have a relationship with me by reminding me of the good times we had. When all I want to do is move on. 

Why can't they? 

The pain is like scratching a sunburn. 

Like this one group of friends: last summer, we were all carless and it was raining. Logically, we thought it was a good idea to walk to Wendy's while it was dark and raining.  Sure, we had a great time. And sure, it ended up being one of the greatest memories of my summer. But trying to set up the same circumstance this summer? Really? Can't we create new memories? Must we always live in the past? 


But then again, I cannot be hypocritical. 

I live in the future, and is that any better? 

When I was in high school, all I wanted to do was go to college.  Now that I'm in college, all I want to do is get married. And once I'm married, I'll be more than ready to move on to the next stage.   

Will I ever be content? 

I'm always ready to move on. For change. For the next big thing- not for the next big thing in pop culture crap, but for the next big thing in my life.  I get so bored with my life.  Even when it's not boring, I find myself comfortable with where I am, and I don't like that.  When I'm comfortable, I cannot grow.  And so I purposely create discomfort for myself.  

 "Life 

is 

what 

happens 

when 

you're 

busy 

making 

plans" 

-John Lennon

I'm always making plans. Always looking forward to the next thing. And I'm finding my life quickly fleeing away.  I find myself two decades old with nothing to show for it. 
I know I'm still young. I'm so young. But before I know it, I'll find myself on my death bed, still waiting for my life to begin.  


Is it so wrong to live for tomorrow, though? 

"Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." - James 4:13-14 (nlt)

Bible wins again. 

Suffocating.

There always has to be a worst.


Be it a worst smell, a worst color, a worst car, 
and a worst summer.  


I miss life as I used to know it. I miss the easy, breezy life I used to live with the perfect friendships, the perfect grades, the perfect family, and the perfect life.  
I miss being the best at everything.  Not because I like being the best at everything, but because there were no problems to deal with.  


There has been too much growing up in too little time.  


√ (1) friend who comes out of the closet to me... and only me.
√ (1) roommate who's struggling to find a reason not to call it quits.
√ (1) brother who is not understood by anyone. 
√ (2) best friends with eating disorders.
√ (1) workaholic dad with anger management issues.
√ (1) mom who's bedridden and desperate for attention.  
...
and this all makes for 1 perfect disastrous recipe. 




And as much as it's been questioned lately, (no), I'm (not) depressed. And (no), I have (not) "changed." 
...okay...
maybe I've lied a little bit.  But they were just to protect those I love. 
Or maybe just to protect myself.  


Those near me are worried about me because I would rather spend my time with myself or my creator than with a group of imperfect people.  And I'm worried because it doesn't bother me. I know it sounds crazy, but if I had the choice, I'd spend my time without myself as well, 'cause I'm sick of myself. 


Oh, God! Please save me from myself! I'm suffocating down here! 


I struggle to find any joy. 


but if the first fruit of the spirit is joy, and I'm not showing any fruit (aside from fake fruit, of course), is the spirit really in me?


 I can see the devil attacking me from all sides-internally and externally- but I don't know if I'm strong enough to fight back. In fact, I know I'm not. But God is... 
even when I don't see him working? 


I'm past exhausted- spiritually, mentally, physically, and emotionally. And this is not okay with all the other crap that's been going on in my life. 


So when I tell people my summer's going good, this is really what I want to tell them. And now I'm sick of hearing myself. 




"Will you think less of me if I tell you how I feel?
I'm as tired as a winter branch is in the trees in the field
That for so long have had to cary such a load 
and fear they may break at the next coming snow
There is love
There is beauty
And there is pain
and at the moment I can't help but feel 
that they are all the same."
-Bradley Hathaway