I like to write. I don't care so much to read what I've written, at least not right away. I do, however, like to come across things that I've put down into words long ago and remember exactly how I felt or what was going on in my life at that moment. For some reason there are really powerful emotions that fill my head when I come across a poetry notebook from college or an email to an old friend during a difficult time in our lives. It makes me want to write more. And when I read some of my favorite books, I want to be able to do what those authors do. I love to get so engrossed in a novel or memior or young adult series that I can't stop until I know the ending.
Then there are days when I get frustrated with life. I don't mean all of life. I have a pretty easy go when you look at it objectively. But I keep finding myself lonely. And to avoid becoming bitter or whiny, I try to be mindful about who I say what to. I don't need everyone who knows me to know that my heart literally aches sometimes. My eyes burn from tears that hurt to cry. I want to scream and cry and hit things. I pray to God that instead of patience and understanding, He give me an actual answer about what this all means. I've got too many fond memories of crying myself to sleep because I just don't understand it. And I don't really want to understand why, I just want it to be different. I want there to be a man in my life who is amazing. I want to find love. I want love to find me. I don't like being lonely. I don't like this chest pain and tear stained t-shirt. I don't care to be able to entertain myself forever. I know that if it happens that I am alone in the long term, I'll be ok. I've got some pretty amazing role models for that. But I can't imagine that that's what God has planned for me.
Before I get too bogged down in the anxiety and sadness that this topic tends to drudge up, I'm going to stop. The lovely and damning thing is, there is only so much that I alone can do to remedy this situation, and I can do almost nothing this late into a Sunday evening. But if I can do one thing, it would be to keep writing and finding new things to write about. Maybe through that I can find somehting else that keeps me occupied and lively. I also need to remind myself to continue being on the path of improvment for my entire being. Again, maybe through that I can also improve my chances of not becoming a lonely spinster, one way or another.
