Remember When It Rained?

I've successfully created an island. I feel like I felt a year ago... which makes me wonder if I've changed at all.

Something happened. It abruptly ended with the guy, I think? I don't understand. I feel different, though. I feel angry for the things that I should feel angry about. I've suddenly stopped feeling the same way about him.

And I'm an island. I'm safe, and so is everyone else.

Try to connect, I know. But not too much-- not so much that I hurt someone like I did with the girl, the guy, myself.

I'm sad that I feel safe. I'm sad that I'm afraid of ever trying to connect with someone, again. The ambivalence intensifies. I'm currently a swirling pot of slightly cold/slightly warm... but the connection was like ice and steam, intensified my confusion, blurred my vision, twisted and forked my path. This is easier. There is no path to choose with it. The path that I'm on has nothing to do with liking boys or girls... It just requires good grades, hard work, friends with a little distance between us, sleep, exercise, good music.

I've been 100%. I feel more at peace with myself, more certain that the Lord is pleased with my efforts.

I'd like to blame my conscience on the Church, on its doctrine, but it exists as a deeper, even more permanent part of my self. It existed even before I was a member of the church.

But there's a part of me that wonders if I'm missing out on something amazing-- something difficult but sincere.

Damn it!

To make up your mind, dude, would be a miracle. To decide, to point myself in a direction and go and forget regret... to not look back.

I don't want to be an island. I don't want to be separate, distanced. But I really, really don't want to hurt anyone else, hurt myself... for brief moments, it hurts to be this way. It goes away. My friends come over, I pray, I sleep, I start my homework, I take the first step of that trail. And hours, dreams, miles later, I feel ok. I can continue.

This stupid life: frustratingly excellent. Hurting, humbling, humanizing me. It forces me to feel things that I hate feeling. It forces me to see myself differently, to look in the mirror and see someone raw, unrefined, jagged. It makes me look at others differently, too. It makes me nicer, more caring, more compassionate. They become my proxy for myself. I treat them well in an effort to treat myself well.

Not getting it out.

It'll be ok. I know it will.

The trail is hard to run. It's ugly and uphill for the first mile. Then, the view suddenly becomes amazing, my steps get lighter, my thoughts start to wander out across the valley. I know it is where I'm supposed to be.

This trail... where to start? The view, I guess, really is beautiful...