Monday, November 28, 2011


Honesty has something to do with faith. I don't know what.

I am tired of answers. Most of the answers I ever had have failed me, and I am young and lucky. These days I simply live between near-despair and wild-flying hope, holding both inside me as a prayer for the world and also for me. I think that hope wins out where there is laughter.

Faith is a thing you do one day at a time, I do know this, but when I say it to myself it is hollow and the child inside me cries and rails against the thought. It is especially when I find myself unexpectedly alone, and fear settles in the deep pit between my stomach and my spine. No one will love you, says fear, and grace seems a distant happening for other people.

Something like faith continues out of habit, and I hope it is something like good enough.

Friday, November 25, 2011

"It seemed like you sort of found your identity in him."

My friend's words nearly knocked the wind out of me. I had worked hard, for two and a half years, to keep my identity separate from his, to do what I wanted and not to get subsumed into the relationship bubble that has sucked friend after friend out of my life. I have always had my own identity, thank you.

And yet, now that I've left, where have I gone?

There's something about knowing someone else finds you beautiful to the core, something that makes it easy to believe. But then it's not your own faith.

It turns out there is surprisingly little I know about myself. I'm an idealist and a cynic; I have no patience for small talk; I take charge of things because I can't stand to see them done "wrong". I like gummy bears and chicken fingers of all kinds, but only the best chocolate and coffee will do. I want the best from myself, every day and at all times; I'm awfully self-conscious and I think that's silly. I depend on my friends more than most people do and I am terrified, absolutely terrified, to leave them and make new ones, then leave them and make new ones.

I want to take big risks and I'm passionate about too many things to "just do it". Just do what? Travel the whole entire world or stay in Cleveland, at Havenplace? Start teaching improv to inner city teenagers or open a vintage clothing store? Peace Corps? Or one of a thousand really neat nonprofits that will let me work for them if I'll just do them the favor of begging my own airfare and living costs off of my friends and family?

For right now, exams and papers and responsibilities galore, plenty to do while the back half of my brain fills itself with a million little fears and doubts, possibilities and impossible desires, always whispering six months to May...