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Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Scars

How scary is it to love someone? To reach the realization that another person has the unique ability to make you feel as close to nirvana as is humanly possible, yet simultaneously can scramble up your insides as effectively as your roommate shakes the boggle letters around the game's plastic case.

In loving someone, and allowing myself the potential to be hurt, I am positive that God or the universe is trying to teach me something. It is in this certainty, that I find myself fighting between the things I know and the things I want to believe. I know I am more scared of any type of emotional pain that has the potential to take place than I am of getting my blood drawn at the hospital. I think I'm more scared, in fact, of an unguarded heart than I am of my neurological disease. I know that I have a combative amount of self-respect, and it isn't conducive to the word "surrender". I know that I am threatened and challenged and much, much weaker than I'm supposed to be, and that I should probably run (or wheel) in a foreign direction as quickly as possible with armor and weapons, and, if necessary, enter a convent on the way.

This is where it gets tricky, though, because the things I know and the things I believe weigh equally on my faith-filled heart, and this is what I believe: that God won't let my inside bits get too scrambled without His assistance; that love is just a tiny bit esoteric and doesn't always yield self-respect, and this loss, sometimes is okay (because we're not supposed to have that much pride anyway). I believe that scars accumulate sometimes, and that while they're always painful at inception, they don't always compromise the beauty of a person, a heart, or even a relationship. I believe that wheeling or running away is just a little counter-productive, and maybe just a little weaker than even I purport to be.

I believe I am stuck.