Double Edged Sword

"These trials are used to push us to do things that we don't really wanna do but are weak areas in us. And we wish that God would remove them but many times he doesn't remove them when we want Him to because He wants those weak areas in us to keep surfacing until we finally realize we need change and we allow God to change us." 


I remembered tonight what finalized my rift with Mr. Volcano.
I got mad at him because I felt he was ashamed of being friends with me and I ripped him a new one.
Not quite sure what the hell that expression is supposed to mean but if I could have I probably would have actually ripped it off.

Our relationship had been strained for months.

We'd broken up then hooked up then screwed that up then made up.

EVERY. DAY. was something different with that kid and the exhaustion of dealing with his manic moods finally took its toll on my poor, wounded, weak self.
I could not believe the best a moment longer.
And damned if it wasn't The Facebook that broke the stupid camel's back.

He had untagged himself from every picture I was in.

And for whatever reason, Fate's sneaky sister Timing grinning like a vicious witch, I lacked the love to find the good in such an action.

Do you know how many times he'd say or do something unloving, he'd uninvite me to the beach party he'd made such a big deal he wanted me to go to, or he'd never call when he said he would, he'd never make time for me, or he'd possess the sensitivity of a skinless arm.

But did I ever lose my temper?  ONCE??
N-O.
I was fucking Mother Teresa being silent as a dove, offering words of life instead of death.
I'd say something encouraging to him on the phone and then make a confused face to myself, like, Damn woman!  Where the hell did that come from?  Why aren't you going bananas on his monkey ass?

I loved the bastard.
And I was determined to believe the best.
D-E-T-E-R-M-I-N-E-D.

Until this one fated Sunday when I left a voicemail saying I was so sorry I was such a burden and he was so ashamed to be associated with me.  And that maybe it was best if we spent no further time together as he was incapable of treating me well.

And he sent back a vile text and I knew immediately that I had failed to walk in love.
And I overwhelmingly wanted to be restored and make things right.
He, alas, did not.

I stopped by his place after my play rehearsal and was met with what may still be the greatest disdain in a pair of single eyes.
We can never have anything to do with each other ever again, were his famous last words.
And he meant them.
And that was many moons ago.

And I don't know how I made the correlation but there was another man in my life I grew to care for, one with similar uncertainties and clouds of haze, and I never let his actions stir me.
Until one fated Wednesday when I wrote a post pouring out my hurt and frustration believing the counsel of my friends and fears that once again I'd been had. And used. And cast aside.

Once. Twice. Three times a foolish lady.

And once again the power of my words struck the core of the one I thought felt icy indifference towards me.
If only we used our power to edify how rich our days would be.

And I awaited my friendship's fate of adieu and eff you.

But stunningly life's circular pattern hiccuped a change in effect.
The boy in question accepted amends.
And the virulent waves of emotion parted long enough for the stars to take center stage.

I marveled over life's patterns, over life's change.
I was humbled by my girlish need for acceptance, for feeling wanted.
Apparently the strong woman I embody houses a timid child whose greatest fear is losing her favorite friends.

And how fortunate for every pair of unforgiving eyes, there are always others who see all this little girl sees.