Bad Pizza and Sisyphus

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

Its a idea I have rolled around in my head enough times to circle the earth. A truth I have loved, hated more, and mostly tried to ignore like the pizza in the back of the fridge that went bad weeks ago. I am in a season of change. As if anything in life is ever constant, but since relationships, job, school, and family are all shifting at the same time lets call this one special. And hope in this season seems to be trying to find its footing.

There is the hope for better for some of those dearest to me. Because in the end it's easy to destroy your own life. Watching someone you love do the same however is another story. The last month provided a front seat to the fallen depths of three, and the fragil rise of one. In my gut I know, nothing is over till life is. God doesn't give up on people, and change is possible as long as breath is. But that is my gut. My heart is a little more beat up.

There is the hope for the end of school and the dream attached to it at the hip. Tenacious is a bit of a thing with me. Life taught me years ago (around the same time it made me a fighter) that giving up gains you little and costs you much. But I am slowing down. The trudge up hill in peanut butter I lovingly call school has worn on me. These days I find myself wondering if I am Sisyphus pushing a boulder up a hill I will never see the top up, and am just to stupid to see it. They say there is a fine line between brave and stupid. I am not sure which side I am on anymore.

There is even the hope that my past will one day, eventually, truly leave me the fuck alone. Nelson Mandela once said 'There is no such thing as part freedom'. In the past few weeks I have felt that truth resonate in my bones. Right now the wars of fathers are still leaving casualties at my door on a regular basis.

Please don't misunderstand me. I have seen the beauty of life that hope fulfilled brings. Every morning I wake up, breath, and remember that life didn't always look like this. The frail girl that should have died turned into a woman no one saw coming. The horizon has a ridiculous amount of light leaking over it. All by the grace of God. At the end of the day I am simply tired. Not fatally or irrevocably, not to the point of defeat. Just tired. Hope deferred makes the heart sic. And my heart is currently in need of a little chicken soup

Because I will never say it better

I made a choice some time ago. The conscious active kind that always holds more weight then you even expect. The choice was a simple one; to not be a woman who only talks about the lack. I had spent to long watching (and being) a single women who could only talk about what wasn't. I was tired of watching it make those around miserable. And more tired of missing life in the waiting. So I chose. The result is I have had incredible adventures, and experiences with God I wouldn't exchange for the world. But it also means there are things I don't speak about, even to my journal. I have never even tried to articulate the ache that has gradually settled into my chest. What would be the point?

A dear friend sent me a link this week. A blog she thought I might enjoy, even if it did hit close to home. It isn't every day I read my heart in someone else's words, the good and the bad of it. I was crying by the end, suddenly aware of the personal cost of my choice. "There are stories we consume in the telling...And there are stories that consume us when they're not told" - Chuck Palahnuik

So since I will never be able to say it better:
http://sayable.net/2012/03/sleeping-alone/