Thoughts and Patterns

It's interesting to me how being separated from Chris makes me feel so disconnected from everything, and yet intimately connected to everything, at the same time. I feel lonely even around large groups of people...I doubt that my friends can really know and love me, if they don't know and love Chris. I feel out of place. I feel like people are whispering about me, or judging my behavior.

At the same time, I have exploded with empathy. I forge fast and strong connections with my surroundings. I went into Y serve last week and talked to the manager there for over an hour. By the end, we knew one another's life stories, present and past struggles, and major weaknesses. Plus, we were both crying and hugging each other. I haven't seen her since, but I think of her often, and I always feel so much love and admiration for her every time. I seem to be easily flooded with emotion. It's weird, what sets it off--a starry night, a masterful poem, or a powerful song suddenly have huge affects on me. I feel everything so so so deeply.

Now that I am rereading this, there might be a correlation between when Chris left and when I stopped taking my meds. Maybe I've just forgotten how deeply I used to feel everything, and this is a readjustment. But somehow, I think Chris being gone contributes to it. Beautiful things are so much more beautiful, sad things are heartbreaking. Oh, and petty/silly/obnoxious people are loathe-worthy. (I'm working on that last one.)

Now that I am rerereading this, I am realizing that my original realization that I feel both connected and disconnected, and whatever it is, I feel deeply, isn't as much of an epiphany as I thought. I feel things deeply. Not exactly news. It just feels like something new, because I haven't felt my emotions this strongly for a few years. I think some of it is probably enhanced by Chris being gone, ex: more appreciation for little things, and more empathy for people that are struggling...but I wasn't exactly oblivious to those things before.

I'm just starting to figure all of this stuff out...and I'm probably really over-analyzing it. But that IS my specialty.

Still, if I'd known I would feel this alive off meds 6 months ago, I would have quit then and there...so, maybe it's good I didn't know. I don't always feel good, and I don't always feel bad, but whatever it is, I feel it. So, I guess the trick is to feel the bad, and then let go, to enjoy the good while it lasts, and try not to kill the people that annoy me while I'm having a heart-to-heart with a beautiful blade of grass.

Life is so vibrant and exciting as a 19 year old psychology student with a mood disorder and a finace in the military. I wonder what it would be like to experience the world with autism...I would probably have a lot more attention to detail, and I'd probably be very much in love with the rhythms of life.

How do you experience your life? What patterns do you notice in your world paradigm?

In His Absence

Chris and Me on our camping trip in Diamond Canyon

Your touch haunts my skin;
Frail memory brings back
A hint of your breath
On my shoulder.

In my dreams you come,
But flee with the dawn--
And I am left here,
Reaching for you.

Return him to me,
Creator Of Love.
Spare my heart the ache
Of solitude.

Yet such brief sorrow
Will I embrace now,
With hope of a shared
Life tomorrow.

I wrote this late one night last week. It is the thought process that I cycle through almost nightly...I slowly lose consciousness, and in that half-asleep, half-awake stage, I can almost feel him here--his fingertips on my cheek, his arm wrapped around my waist. I fall asleep, and dream of him. Sometimes I reach out to touch him, and I wake up to see that I am alone in my bed, with my roommate breathing quietly near me. Last night I dreamed that I was in Texas for his graduation, and I woke up to remember that he has only been gone two weeks.

Inevitably, I feel a wave of loneliness and exhaustion at this time. I roll over in bed and cry, or I pull on his sweater and sit in the hall with his letters and read them over and over and over and cry there. I pray bitterly.

When I am done crying and praying that he will magically appear, I feel a stillness--or exhaustion--sweep over me, and I remember him telling me that it will all be worth it in the end. I think of how proud I am of him for what he is doing, and I remember that he is struggling, too. I go back to sleep with renewed commitment and hope for the future, and with the knowledge that even if I can't have him now, I can be with him for eternity. 

Give

In fast and testimony meeting last Sunday, Andrew talked about a guy that he met this last week. The guy was in serious financial trouble. Andrew talked to him about getting a job, gave him some budgeting tips, and a little cash for food. He then said, "As I walked away, I looked down at my wallet, and I realized that I had a lot of money left in it that I could have given, but chose not to. I didn't give him everything I had--I withheld a part of my substance from him. I wish I gave him everything." He talked about how we often hold back--in our callings, in classes, in relationships, and even with Christ...he said we should give of ourselves freely.

Today, I was walking home from buying my friend a birthday present in downtown Provo. I paused with a middle-aged man at an intersection, and waited for the light to change. I gave him a brief smile, and looked away. He said tentatively, "Excuse me, miss, but do you happen to have any spare change?" ...Now, I never, ever, ever have cash in my wallet. Ever. I answered, "I'm sorry, I don't think I have any on me." He said, "Please, even a couple pennies would be great." I pulled out my wallet and opened it to see if I had any pennies--even those are rare, I usually use them at the grocery store--and I saw that I had a ten dollar bill in my wallet. I had put it there to pay aquarium entrance, but I ended up using my credit card that day. Surprised, I said, "Oh! I have got a ten!" I handed it to him. He said, "Oh, God bless you."

The light changed, and he walked away. I was surprised at myself--I'm really tight financially.I have a strict 30 dollars a week budget, and it is usually used up on food. I don't usually give money to people that ask, even if I have it....and I've been really worried about money lately, as I realize how difficult it is to get a job in Provo, especially without a car. I watched him fade into the distance, wondering if he really needed the money, and if so, what for?

I eventually came to a conclusion. I decided that it didn't matter. Maybe he really, desperately needed the money. Maybe he just thought it would be funny to ask a random person for money. Maybe I was totally taken advantage of. I have absolutely no way of knowing how deserving that man was--even if he were in a wheelchair, I have no way to know for sure what his circumstances are. So how can I judge? I can't. Maybe I needed that money more--I don't know. But how could I refuse, if there was even the slightest chance that I was refusing aid to someone truly in need, however undeserving he might be? How could I offer him pennies, when I knew I had more to give? And even if he wasn't deserving, aren't we all beggars before God? Are any of us truly deserving of his mercy and blessings?

I am a beggar at the throne of God...and I know I am an undeserving one. Yet he offers me not pennies, but all that he has. He offers me a godly inheritance: eternal life and exaltation.How can we refuse aid to those we assume to be undeserving, when He offers his blessings so freely to each of us, who we KNOW to be undeserving?

I hold back. I give some to school, and some to God, and some to family and friends, but I fall miserably short of giving my all. I keep so much of my time, my talents, and my heart back.

This month, I want to give a little more of myself to the world. If I can be a tiny bit less selfish, and a tiny bit more generous, maybe I can make a tiny bit more of a contribution.

If there is any good to be done in this world, it will be done by broken people, giving everything have left. No one on this earth has no trials and is just given the job of helping everyone else out. We can't wait around for someone else to do something good, because we are too tired or too hurt or too lonely. Everyone else is tired, hurt, and lonely, too. We have to look up from our own pain, recognize the same pain in others, and reach out to them with everything we have.

I walked out of the bathroom today, after about an hour of crying and feeling sorry for myself, to see my roommate walking out of the other bathroom, crying as well. There was no one else to comfort her--only me.

Grumpy

This is Chris' grumpy face. I miss it so much. Allison took this picture during day two of our engagement photo shoot...We took pictures for 6 hours the first day, and 4 hours the second. This was about halfway through the 4 hour shoot, and Chris was getting a little tired of being told, "Smile! Kiss her! Blow this dandelion! Read this book! Look happy!" It probably didn't help that he was exhausted from getting up at 5 a.m. to go to drill both mornings...still, he stuck it out, and we got some of our favorite pictures out of that day. ...He is too cute, even when he is grumpy.

Tonight is one of those nights. It is about 2:45 a.m...I have class tomorrow, but I just can't sleep. I've been looking through our pictures for the past few hours, remembering what was happening when they were taken, what he did and said. I feel kind of achy inside.