I am a leaf on the wind. Watch me soar.
Oct. 2nd, 2005 09:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jackofallgeeksI was talking with a friend late last night. We got into some heavy stuff.
Sometimes I feel like I'm not even who I pretend to be.
Talking late at night has always had a particular effect on me. It tears down certain walls.
There's a lot that bothers me about me, when it comes to light. I'm proud for one. I don't like that. I like the self-confidence I have, but I don't like the way I can be selfish, and unwilling to admit my own faults. I don't like how attractive so many of the Wrong Things look to me sometimes. I don't like how not-removed from The World I am. I don't like how I have these strong convictions, this unwavering belief in the Church and spiritual reality, but almost no faith.
It came to me admitting things that I don't like thinking about.
That Jesus died for our sins I can believe. That there's a spiritual existence, that there is God and the angels and the immortal soul I can believe. that there's a heaven and a hell and an Eternity I can believe. That there have been miracles, even, sure, I'll believe that. That there ARE miracles, that I find difficult. I have very little faith that the World I believe in has any bearing on the World I exist in.
And other little things.
I have doubts, and doubts scare me. I've been wounded, and I'm afraid of being wounded again.
I would sooner lose anything else -- a job, my computer, a limb -- than a friend.
We even talked, for a moment, about Suzannah.
It's the same as ever, really. It only hurts when I think about it, but... I really considered her a dear friend. She was important to me. I enjoyed her company... It's better when I don't think about it. -smiles- I want to cry.
I don't think I let myself cry over The Situation until last night. And I know it doesn't seem like it here, and it's only been a few weeks, but I'm really not that bad off. I don't think of her, and when I do, I don't even get sad or angry any more. I just hurt a little, is all.
It was cathartic. And I thought I'd share.
Sometimes I feel like I'm not even who I pretend to be.
Talking late at night has always had a particular effect on me. It tears down certain walls.
There's a lot that bothers me about me, when it comes to light. I'm proud for one. I don't like that. I like the self-confidence I have, but I don't like the way I can be selfish, and unwilling to admit my own faults. I don't like how attractive so many of the Wrong Things look to me sometimes. I don't like how not-removed from The World I am. I don't like how I have these strong convictions, this unwavering belief in the Church and spiritual reality, but almost no faith.
It came to me admitting things that I don't like thinking about.
That Jesus died for our sins I can believe. That there's a spiritual existence, that there is God and the angels and the immortal soul I can believe. that there's a heaven and a hell and an Eternity I can believe. That there have been miracles, even, sure, I'll believe that. That there ARE miracles, that I find difficult. I have very little faith that the World I believe in has any bearing on the World I exist in.
And other little things.
I have doubts, and doubts scare me. I've been wounded, and I'm afraid of being wounded again.
I would sooner lose anything else -- a job, my computer, a limb -- than a friend.
We even talked, for a moment, about Suzannah.
It's the same as ever, really. It only hurts when I think about it, but... I really considered her a dear friend. She was important to me. I enjoyed her company... It's better when I don't think about it. -smiles- I want to cry.
I don't think I let myself cry over The Situation until last night. And I know it doesn't seem like it here, and it's only been a few weeks, but I'm really not that bad off. I don't think of her, and when I do, I don't even get sad or angry any more. I just hurt a little, is all.
It was cathartic. And I thought I'd share.
