Coffee Shop Daze

sunday best and broken glass.

Today is Sunday. I missed church, because I was too lazy to get up. Or too lazy to care. Remember that blog I posted awhile back about all my doubts? They're still there. I don't know what to feel or think about God anymore. I feel abandoned. I thought I found Him again, but then He was gone again, like He never came back. I never wrote about that-- it was during VBS. I was standing next to my six year old brother Cody, and we were singing the VBS song, and he was singing so loud and smiling... and I almost cried. I felt God there, just for a few minutes. I almost had to leave the room it hit me so hard. But it faded-- He left me again, and it seems like nothing is making him coming back. Not singing all the hymns. Not trying my best to pay attention in chapel. Not Concert Choir. I can't feel anything, and it's scaring me. I can feel that ennui thing starting to creep up on me, and still I just sit here on my computer, not even writing my book, not even trying to do anything productive. Except talking to Trent. That's what honestly keeps me sane sometimes.

Last night, we had an interesting conversation about love, and I discovered something about myself. About why I force myself to believe in love, even when everyone tells me it's stupid. I didn't realize it until I typed it out to Trent. And in that moment, I realized how fucked up I really am. I believe in love like a fairy tale, because if I don't, no one will. Almost every couple in my family that I'm close to is divorced. My parents. My aunt. My grandma. I'm afraid I'll end up like them-- alone and bitter. Trent told me we don't have to pity those who are alone... and I don't. But I'd pity myself. I suck at being by myself. In fact, being alone is my worst fear. Probably has something to do with my mom. That's why I surround myself with friends and try to be as loveable as possible. I'm afraid, at times, that I'm really not all that loveable. That I try too hard.

Oh well.

I really didn't mean this post to turn out this way. It just kind of happened when I started typing about missing church. I haven't really blogged about serious things in awhile, so maybe it's okay. If you don't wanna read the rest, you can stop here. I'm sure the next post will be something happy. -shrug- I tend to do that with my moods.

Moving on.

People scare me, in all honesty. For instance, there was a year of my life I wasted on depression and a certain type of fear. You know that type of horrified thrill you get when you think people are talking about you? Or that people don't like you, but won't say it to your face? My sophomore year, the senior class made me feel like that all the time. Like I was a centimeter tall, and I couldn't voice an opinion or hang out with who I wanted, because they were ALWAYS around. There's just no escaping people in a school as small as mine. Not to mention the ex-boyfriend hovering over my head, always stabbing at me. I had friends in that class, from CSP, and I've made a few since they graduated, but still, certain people show up at school, and it's the same feeling. I remember, and I'm ALWAYS going to remember how I felt when they were around all the time, and I can't deal with it. I go into a shell. I stick to what used to be my clique. I don't feel welcome in my own skin when they come around.

Which is silly, right? I'm always telling people that high school drama won't matter in ten years, but I'll speak truthfully: if I saw one of them ten years from now, I'd probably want to hide in a hole.

It boggles my mind how people can have multiple faces. A long time ago, I posted something called "People, Faces, and Thoughts" dealing with that issue, and it still continnues to amaze me. You want me to stay out of your business. You don't want me butting in. But yet you post your issues all over facebook and MySpace, expecting me to not ask what's wrong? Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I can't let that go-- It's impossible for me to let people hurt, I HAVE to save them. I wrote a song about that-- the savior complex. And guess what, I might not even have that going for me... I'm sure I've found the person who is going to break me. Not on purpose, probably. He's not trying to hurt me. But he's killing me. He's one of two people I worry about constantly, and I've run out of words to say to him. Every day, I watch him get worse, and it hurts more and more. He's got two faces too-- one for the world, a happy exterior, and then the tortured side that he only let's me see part of.

He doesn't want me to save him. He won't LET me help, he'll just listen to me, and ask me to stay awake with him, and I'll do it. I can't let him sit up awake and hurting. But at the same time, allowing me to help that little bit is killing me more than if he were to tell me to not help at all-- I'll feel like I'm getting somewhere, FINALLY, and then he'll take it away from me. With a joke, or a sarcastic, depressed comment. I can't do anything to help him, and it keeps me awake at night, it keeps me wondering all the time. He's one of my best friends and he's slowly dying right in front of me.

The car beeping a million times outside my window is right. I should stop thinking about it. It didn't say that, of course, it's a car horn, but it interuppted me at the right time. Maybe I just whine too much. Who knows. I'll let you know if I find God, or if human existence starts to make sense to me again. Let me quote a song: "I could stand here for hours just to ask God the question: 'does this deafening silence mean nothing to no one but me'?"

I think that fits perfectly, don't you?

posted by Kayla @ 9:58 AM