Bittersweet Temptation

While on this journey of living in love, I find that more and more hurdles come my way. These hurdles are often in the form of men. Other men may cross my path, causing me to look away from my end goal, which is my boyfriend. I don’t actually venture off the path and start following this distraction; I just glance over that direction.

But sometimes that glance is enough to divert my thoughts.  I begin to lose focus of the end goal and start thinking about other possibilities.  I don’t actually want to pursue those other possibilities; I just like to think about them.  They are harmless thoughts…just enough to make sure that my end goal is definitely what I want.

It almost enables me to appreciate the end goal a bit more.  When I’m fully aware of the other men that are out there, I can better affirm that the one I have is the right one for me.  It lets me know that my boyfriend is not just great because he’s the only one out there and I love him, but he’s great because he’s better for me than anyone else that is out there.

But I must admit, sometimes it takes me a moment to realize that these distractions aren’t better than the end goal.  In the moment, sometimes I forget that my boyfriend is really good for me, and I allow myself to get distracted by men who are not-so-good for me.  But these distractions are so tricky—they disguise themselves to be more than what they are.  So once they take off their mask, you find that they are not who you thought. 

What I keep learning is that my boyfriend—in all his flaws—is better for me than all the distractions (even the cute ones).  So while it’s okay to look, it’s definitely not worth while touching!

A Painful Tease

Angry—I’m trying to make myself angry, because it hurts too much to be sad.  I’m forcing myself to get mad at something, anything in a feeble attempt to redirect my pain. But the reality is I’m sad. I’m sad because he had to leave yesterday. My long-distance boyfriend had finished his visit and had to return back to his home—it was agonizing. Agonizing because he stayed just long enough for me to get of taste of what it would be like if we were to live together in the same city. He stayed just long enough for me to get used to his scent in the house. He stayed just long enough for me to roll over in bed and expect to feel him next to me. He stayed just long enough for me to feel as if a piece of me left when he got on that plane…

And that’s exactly how I felt—a piece of me felt gone, separated from its source. As I dropped him off at the airport and began to drive away, with each revolution of the wheel, I felt my heart getting tighter and tighter. Hoping that this experience will be like a band-aid that you must rip off quickly, I revved the gas and accelerated the car forward. I had to try anything I could to ease the pain, to make it wear off quickly. It didn’t work. The silence in the car made me painfully aware of the fact that I was alone in my two-passenger car. I got home and walked in the door and my whole house was a breeding ground of boyfriend artifacts and mementos. The disheveled sheets on the bed reminded me he was just lying there a few hours before. The dirty plates in the sink, the empty bottles of water, the position of the toilet seat all pointed out what I’ve been trying so hard to ignore—he was not there anymore.

Walking into that reality was painfully sad, so I looked for another emotion. Joy is sweet, but it also just accentuates the sadness. Indifference is calming but, it stifles all other emotions. Anger is all I had. I had nothing to be angry about, but it was the only emotion that allowed me to feel a heightened emotional state, while at the same time totally masking the sadness. 

So I’m angry. I’m angry he left me. I’m angry we have to live apart. I’m angry that this is my life.   

I’m angry because it hurts too much to be sad…