Slow Motion

I’ve been told I move too fast. I mean, how could I not be told such a line when I was engaged at 19, after only knowing the boy for 10 months.
I move too fast.
My friends do too.
My parents did also.
I’m sure most of your parents, together or not… Did too.
I may move too fast, but I praise God I don’t move slowly, with concentration, too much thought regarding love and emotion, or while being sensible.
I personally believe that emotions should not be dwelled upon.
They should be felt and then jumped on.
Love is not a verb, noun or adjective that should be well thought or felt out. It should be spontaneous, because it is.
Who do you know that fell in love and actually thought about it and told themselves they could?
I think they may have told you they did, and that their decision to love and be loved was a mature and precise decision made for their own benefit, as much as their partners, but I’ll be the first to call bullshit, because they are more than likely bluffing.
I don’t care if you’ve known your significant other for a matter of minutes and you know you want to pursue something long term with them; do it, and do it well. Don’t give up on something you feel so intensely, even if it may be fleeting in the long run. One of my biggest pet peeves is when my girlfriends or family members tell me I’m moving too fast, or that I should really think about it. Don’t you know I never stop thinking? So why can’t I be allowed the simple pleasure, yet also the biggest pleasure of our time here on earth, to be that I don’t have to think for love. Why can’t I be granted this emotion, the verb that makes the literal world go round (yes, I know it doesn’t actually make the literal world go round, but … No, it actually does if you believe in God) without a boundary as big as thinking. I don’t want to be sensible with love. I want to fall. I want to hurt. I want to be vulnerable and, not in the slightest, sensible. I’ve realized that when I’m not in love, I cry a lot less, I feel a lot less, and I can become pretty insensitive to others emotions (crying, for the most part, is healthy for me). I enjoy the role that I play when I’m apart of a romantic relationship.
Yes, it sucks to be broken up with.
Yes, it sucks to have to try and permanently erase a year and 4 months from one’s memory, but my dear, sweet, sometimes judgmental souls, (just like everyone in this world is at times) falling in love is beautiful, adventurous, and a vulnerable, soul/eye opening experience that has forever changed my life, and is something that I will always be proud of committing to doing.
I love love; I always have, and I always will.
Another point I would like to make is that of the honeymoon stage. Some have mentioned that friends of mine should not have made what they believe to be a rash decision about moving in together due to them still being in the so called “honeymoon stage”.
Here is what I think about that: the honeymoon phase does not last for a determined length of time for everyone. For my ex and I, it lasted for about 10 months. We fought, but it was not anything relatively serious, until after he popped the question and life started to get rough and serious for the both of us. With my current man, we have already laid out our expectations, goals, and plans for the future (with or without the other, because we like to dream of it together, but remain realistic in a sense), and so ours lasted about a week and a half. So, what I want anyone to take away from this whole spiel is that every couple’s honeymoon stage duration differs from the next. I do not think it fair to judge another for moving too fast, while using the excuse of a honeymoon stage still in the process, if we can never be sure of that couple’s journey through life together. We do not have a say in if they are ready or not, or if they have gone through enough life experience together to know if they are a good match or not. Who cares if someone gets engaged “too soon” for their own personal liking? It is not your life. That is not your decision to make. It shouldn’t be what you talk about, unless it’s your own daughter, son or absolute, die hard best friend and you know them well enough to have a say. It should not be your opinion that stirs up rumors or a conversation for many to talk to others about. It should not be anyone but the members of that relationship to bring up opinions and ideas about their personal life together.
So, in my own opinion, whether you agree with it or not, I do not appreciate when others speak and judge of another’s relationship and it’s growth or speed. And while some are off being sensible, or just talking about it like they assume they will be when it’s their turn, I’d rather have my heart broken, and then filled up again with immeasurable amounts of love.
(Here are all the quotes that I liked, but could not choose, because they are all too relevant for this blog post.)

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For all the times you broke my heart.

There are some things I want you to know.

I’ve held back coming in contact with you for years. I suppose it’s been one year of completely staying out of contact. However, there were many times in the past 3 years that I had to stop myself from reaching out to you.

It’s not easy for me to say no to myself with something involving my emotions, and feelings towards another. I have always done my best to let others know how I feel about them.

I wanted to talk to you, but I knew you didn’t want to hear from me.

I wanted you there to help move me into my dorm. You said you’d be there.

I half wished you showed up anyway.

I wanted you to take me back into your arms and call me yours when we met and went to talk at Panera. Instead, I made you cry over a conversation about how I know your father loves you.

You told me I was your best friend, and that you wanted me in your life. Instead, you pushed me away.

Your actual best friend does not love you more than his wife. You would know this if you were married, and understood a healthy marriage.

You were wrong about me. I have since proved you wrong.

I may have needed life experience, but I was not as inexperienced as you may have believed.

I was never put in a situation with you where my talents were made to shine.

You breaking up with me, being thrown into the fire of college by myself in a new city, 400 miles away from my family, 4 new jobs, a new relationship, graduating college, and going into the work force has given me all of the experience I think you wanted from me… and so much more.

You had no idea what was up my sleeve.

Neither did I.

But I knew deep down that I was more than “that girl who was broken up with because she doesn’t have life experience”. I was more than the girl who wasn’t loved anymore by the one that she chose day in and day out to love.

I wanted to marry you.

I believed you would come to my Lord, and be saved.

I believed that you would cherish me, and you didn’t.

You chose your friends over me, you chose your job over me, and you chose someone else over me.

You couldn’t imagine a life with me in it anymore, and you didn’t want to bother to inform me of this new information.

I had to dig that truth out for myself. Do you know what it feels like to have someone you love deeply, and want to be with forever tell you that they don’t feel the same anymore?

That one day that person you have chosen to be with for the rest of your days can wake up one morning and decide that you don’t make the cut. That you’re unwanted by the one you want the most. I never got to choose. I was handed a new life, with no one to listen to what I wanted.

You never gave me a second look.

It’s as if you knew you never wanted to speak to me again.

Then, a year and a half later you invite me over to your new place.

A few months after that you accept my offer to come over and help you in your new place (to which you didn’t need my help…).

Several months go by, and you tell my friend that you don’t want to lead on.

If you didn’t want to lead me on, why would you think it okay to invite me over?

How does that not “lead me on”?

You should have told me that when you were giving me space to move on, that it was really an invitation to step out of your life forever.

You needed life experience.

I’m still not sure you’ve got it.

My Demons.

Once upon a time, I was blamed for a roommate being almost sexually assaulted because I was too drunk and/or committed to sleep to care. (Truth be told, that was a sketchy night and there are two sides to literally every side and story…).

Once upon a time, I smoked weed in college. More than once.

Once upon a time, after being broken up with by the love of my life I went and kissed 8 different men to try and get over him. It didn’t work.

Many once upon a times, I have been worrisome about things I cannot change, and situations that had yet to occur.

Once upon a time, I installed Tinder to find said ex and make him fall back in love with me. (Love will cause you to do some crazy… shit.)

Once upon a time, I stole from a grocery store. (I drank a drink while shopping and didn’t want to pay for it, because I didn’t like it… I definitely didn’t follow my instinctual guilt, and there’s no justification. I am a thief.)

Once upon a time, I lied to my father about my whereabouts. I told him I was going out to see a friend, when I was actually visiting my ex boyfriend. I broke my own heart many times over the course of two years from my own wrongdoings. Trust the Lord and His will.

Many upon a times, I have counted and pointed out the flaws of my friends, coworkers and core members before pointing out and correcting the planks in my own eyes.

Many upon a times, I have sinned and sinned again. I continue to sin, just as we all do. It takes me multiple tries before I get it right (such as the pot incidents… I just couldn’t bring myself to stop at a one time occurrence.)

My sins have brought about years of pain and suffering. But my Lord has brought new bright, shining, and gracious gifts from my own darkness (such as my current boyfriend from my Tinder experience). He knows we live in a fallen world. He knows that we will sin again and again. Every leader that has gone before us has done so. Look at the book of Joshua. It took one sin of not trusting the Lord to lead to a 40 year march to get to the Promised Land. God serves justice, and He also keeps His promises. He will always provide. He will bring light to your darkness, and you will receive lessons and gifts from your suffering for your sins. Be patient and watch as the Lord’s greatness unfolds before you in your life’s journey.

All of my once or twice upon a time’s bring sadness to me because it means I have failed in many situations. But every single time I was forgiven by a God who loves me more than my flaws take hold of me.
If God can forgive me and my sins, He can and will forgive all of any sin. Every sin is the same in His eyes, so bring it all to Him.

Remember that He cares and loves for you. Every day. Come to Him and confess.

*Disclaimer: I am writing this out of some calling to post my past transgressions. I do not need any justification or new respect from anyone. I also want to be sure that everyone knows this is the smallest list I could come up with. I HAVE SO MANY OTHER SINS! The Lord has forgiven me of all of them. Especially the ones I have gone to Him and asked directly for the forgiveness of. Even the ones I have long forgotten of. My long list is in His hands, and He doesn’t care for them as much as I sinfully do.*

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You Never Quite Forget.

Rory Gilmore told herself she would not wallow. When she eventually did, we found ourselves crying the same type of tears (she within a tv episode that occurred years ago; I within reality recalling my own “years ago”).

Rory Gilmore is from the hit TV series “Gilmore Girls” that I have most recently become attached to, and plan to watch 7 seasons of. (For those of you wondering, and so that no one asks questions beyond my own knowledge with spoilers attached – I just finished the first season!)

This wallowing happened due to Rory’s first break-up… with her first love.

They dated for 3 months, and for some that would be nothing, but I could feel her pain.

You never quite forget your first love.

You can try as hard as you can, and wish the pain away, or pray a thousand prayers each day, but your mind seems to drift back to that place in the past more frequently than you’d prefer.

I was like Rory in many ways. After my first break-up with my fiancé I decided that I would not wallow. Sure, I cried the night he broke it off, but the next day I woke up and decided to move on right then and there. I wanted to focus on all of the positives.

I had my hopes and dreams of getting back together with my first love, which I guess helped with my “healing” process. I figured he would come back around to the idea of us eventually – especially after I moved closer and closed the distance between us.

It took awhile for reality to officially settle in. And when it did I seemed to dance with the idea of it. I couldn’t accept it, and had a hard time understanding that my first love would not come back to me, and that it didn’t want me anymore. I thought and grew up on in my own imagination and through countless rom coms that your first love, the real and deep one, the one that got down on one knee, would be your last. I wanted nothing more than to believe he would follow my homie Jesus and come running back to me. Or at least be skipping along in life and then trip over the leg I stuck out for him in order to make him fall back in love with me.

It’s hard to realize that you are nearly haunted 2 years after said break-up.

I still think of him from time to time. And if I have thought of him once that day, it is more than likely that he stars in at least 10 more thoughts.

It is all the more agonizing to watch or read of a character getting their heart broken in a similar way. It aches and it opens up wounds that I am becoming more prone to forgetting. However, after watching their heart break, my ex becomes more prevalent in my mind for the next couple of days. It sucks.

We live in close proximity again. Due to this little factor, I grow concerned that I will one day bump into him. Will it be at the grocery store? Which aisle? The movies? Will I be with my boyfriend when I see him? Has he seen me already? Did he feel anything if he did see me? What will I say if I see him? Should I be funny? Nonchalant? Should I just run from the situation altogether?

What’s even worse than all of this is that I have a fantastic guy in my life now, and I still have to put up with all of this senseless thinking. Why on earth am I even playing around with the ideas of seeing him again?

His name comes into my mind less now than it did before. Before, I grew worried that one day his name would slip through my sentences when trying to insert my boyfriend’s name.

I feel guilty for ever thinking of my ex, and ever comparing them together, when they are incredibly different. I am lucky that they are different. It almost feels like I am cheating or being unfaithful to have any thoughts of my ex. I will always wish these feelings and thoughts away.

I don’t want to compare my current relationship with the realtionship I can hardly remember from the past. I want to fully move on. I will take remembering his name. I want to rid myself of the memories and feelings I once had. I want it all to drift away. I want peace and understanding from my past. I need more healing.

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I’ve planned two weddings in this short lifetime of mine.

Two weddings that never happened, and won’t apart from the imagined processions in my mind.

(Unless by God’s mighty hand things change and one of them comes back to me).

Engaged once, and almost engaged on this day to two different and incredible men.

I am one lucky duck to have loved and to have lost.

I have since made myself a promise.

I promise that as much as I can control it that I will not be in another relationship until I know, or think I know, that this man will be in my life forever.

We will date.

We will go out and discover each other.

It will be like we are in a relationship, and we will be, but I won’t make it official.

We will essentially go from dating (without being bf/gf) into engagement.

I know I may not stick to this plan, (mainly due to social norms), but it’s what I want.

I want “third time’s the charm”, and “this is it”.

I want to be “sure” of it, like so many have told me they are/were.

I want to be in love and feel head over heels for the person I am with.

I want to be more in love with life with him than I am with life by myself.

I know I am meant to be married, with children, and living out that ministry.

I was given this dream at an early age, like many girls are.

I will wait.

He will wait too.

We will be together and it will be more beautiful than being on our own.

A wide variety of people have given me their 2¢ about my last relationship.

Most of them were glorifying our relationship, which is what we strived to have people NOT do.

Damn humans.

We did that to your relationships too though.

We damned humans can’t help ourselves glorify others, and put others relationships on a pedestal.

Our relationship had many ups and downs.

To me it seemed there were more downs, which is incredibly saddening to know the other person thought differently.

We were not on the same page.

These things happen.

People change their minds.

Feelings become distorted, and diverse.

I will always love him.

Every love is different.

I am now waiting for the one I know will make my days brighter, and fuller.

One that brings me closer to the mission, to Christ, and to each other.

I do not want to have, or make another engagement ring until it is the last one.

I now have that “life experience” one ex told me I needed.

I now know more about respect, and worrying less.

I have learned a lot.

I will begin to care less about others 2¢, and worry more about cleaning out my own closet that is full of them.

Two weddings; two sets of memories.

The third shall be it.

 

With great love,

The Mackenzie Diaries.

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$100,000

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This morning I had scrolled to a post on Facebook from a friend I had known in high school. She had reached her goal of $100,000. She had saved this money for a future house. I’m 22 years old. She’s younger than I and holds the life of a skilled and wonderful photographer. I was in shock; I said some profanity out of disbelief. I kept scrolling to avoid any inevitable jealousy. I scrolled back up to make sure it was true.

I ended up going on a walk that day. As I was walking this gorgeous path at a favorite park of mine, I was struck by this familiar feeling. I felt as if I was walking down a similar walkway in Scotland, or Dublin. I was in love with this feeling. I always am when it occurs to me. I kept reading and a thought popped into my head, as it usually does when I get this feeling. I thought, “I must go back soon”. I kept walking and reading my book, but couldn’t help think back to the $100,000 goal reached by my relentlessly motivated friend.
All morning I was going through ways in which I could save to that amount and possibly more. My goal had always been to reach $50,000 in my savings account. I had always figured that in itself would take me until I was at least 40 to reach. That was until I had seen that post.
On this walk with my book and familiar sense of elsewhere, I began to realize that deep down I didn’t want to save until every goal was achieved. I want to save until I can escape reality again. Until I can explore and use all of that which was saved. I want to wander endless streets that were once unknown to me.

And so, I will save. I will save however much I can. I will not compare my savings to others who are saving more or less. I will save my own honest earnings, and give that which is called upon me to give. I will travel this world like I always promised myself I would.
I will go. I will lead. I will save. I will spend it in the greatest way possible.

Time and its Telling

What does it mean when she breaks it off, but can’t break her mind off of talking to him?

How could she fool herself into feeling like she fell in love, and then realize 7 months later that it is more like a friendship?

Or did she trick herself into feeling like it was more like a friendship?

Did she get scared?

The words written down in that journal tell a different story…

The magic of the fact that the journal lay open on the bed, when it was indeed closed.

How does that happen?

The conversation was meant to happen the next day, or rather that weekend…

It happened on a Thursday.

Nothing is ever supposed to happen on a Thursday.

This Thursday was the Thursday of all Thursdays.

7 months prior was the asking of the hand in a new relationship.

One that would eventually lead to marriage.

Because they both figured they were sure of it.

Perhaps they still are.

Now she hears things like, “You don’t find peace until you love somebody else.”

And she wonders what that means…

One last break up.

That’s all they have.

That’s all they ever asked for.

It’s been prayed in prayer circles around that cafe, and in her mind for hours.

Months even…

She couldn’t stop thinking about how it could end.

She couldn’t stop worrying about if this one wasn’t the one the Lord had prepared for her.

What if there’s someone else?

What if this isn’t what it’s supposed to feel like?

What if it is him?

What if she’s driving herself mad, and she needs to wait it out…

The what ifs may have been right, but they could have slammed a door shut that He so badly wanted to open.

She closed it shut, then cracked it open.

Her doubts in herself began to open that door again.

Is this what He wants?

These thoughts torment her.

Others that had rooted them on. They taunt her from the other side of her mind.

Where were all of those answers coming from?

Did she think them all up herself?

Was God giving her those answers?

Why the two yeses and then one no?

What happens now?

Always fasting for answers.

He said to fast for joy, peace, and fun…

They didn’t have enough fun.

Everything seemed so serious.

Was she herself?

Why did she stop working out?

Why were there no butterflies?

Is that not odd?

Would they be happy in the years to come?

Are these questions that everyone has?

The endless dreams of what could be flood in…

The dreams of the past slip by, but linger as they do.

“That would have been nice to do with him.”

Or will it become a reality?

Only time will tell…

The Day I Cried Over Egg Salad

That day was today actually.

Life can be strange, beautiful and can truly make your eyes, heart and head hurt so much all at the same time. That’s what I’m learning in my post-grad year here at L’Arche.

My house is called Harmony House. We are 5 adults, (3 of us have more prominent and varying disabilities) attempting to live in harmony with one another and loving each other through that process. It was not until September, when we invited a German volunteer into our home that we finally and officially became that solid 5. So… here we are in October.

In the short span of a month I have learned and processed many things from being in this house for 4 months now, and living one of those months with a new volunteer/assistant.

Here is my list:

  • Language barriers are real, and they suck big time. Now, I’ve known this for awhile, because my dad’s side is from Scotland, along with some of my mom’s side… they may speak the same language, but boy, is there a language barrier sometimes. I’ve also been to France, and I felt horrible speaking any English there, but I did, because my French was awful.

    This is not to say that she doesn’t know English, and that we don’t talk. She speaks a little bit of English from what she learned in school, but sometimes she says sentences or tries to phrase a question in a certain way and we both end up perplexed and lost.

  • No one has it figured out. If they say they do, they are probably full of my favorite curse word – “bullshit”.

    A harsh reality for me was learning how to be okay with making mistakes. I hated the fact that I would have to mess up and that others would think I was something less of a human being. But I’m not. And you are not. We are all human, and humans are faulty and sinful beings. We all suck, but we are all loved and are capable of many things.

  • Life is better with more than one person.

    Even though it has taken the other assistant and I awhile to adjust to each other and the house (and it will take even longer due to how our walks have been so diverse through life thus far, and with it being only her first month at L’Arche, and only her second time in America), it is getting better every day.

  • My newest roommate may not be able to cook to save her life. She may or may not have made some sort of egg salad soup even after being given a recipe and specific instructions with 2 hours to figure it out while I went with Sarah to church (a little background on the title of this blog post). She tries, and she is willing. I am thankful for her and her willingness to be apart of L’Arche, and to step outside of her comfort zone and head over to America… Nicole, you are beautiful, and a gift. We simply need to learn together, and you are definitely going to try again on making egg salad… Even though both of us don’t eat it.
  • Sometimes all you need at the end of the day is a hug.

    Mainly when they are welcomed, and not forceful… Sarah’s hugs can feel much like my mom’s some days. When you live in community and you are living life together, with all of it’s anxieties, it’s ups and downs, twists and turns, a hug can be that deep breath you have been waiting for to know that you made it another day, and that a new one is just around the corner.

  • You should probably not ever pee with the bathroom door open clothed and/or naked, because one of your roommates might just try to open your bedroom door and will scare the bejeebers out of you.
  • I have learned to say “no”.

    I have learned time and time again that it is okay and extremely necessary to say no to my oftentimes cute, but also annoying roommate Sarah. She inappropriately grabs people when she wants their attention, even if they are talking to someone else. This is not appropriate behavior, and she needs to be told, “no”, and why she is not allowed to do it. It was super awkward at first and I didn’t feel okay disciplining someone who is older than I am and is also not my child, but … that’s the L’Arche life!

    I have also learned to say no to myself. I have wanted a dog walking position ever since seeing the movie In Her Shoes. When my anxiety spiked again in September I worried about money, and then found this surge of energy and felt that I would be able to take on a side job (on top of my 55-60 hour work week, being in a relationship, going to church/ 2 small groups, trying to hang out with my friends, keeping up with my family back home, and trying to become a deeper Christ follower among other miscellaneous things). I ended up finding a position that sounded perfect for me, and so I applied. Then I quit after about a week and a half. It was a hard decision, but I realized my free time, along with my sanity and health, was more important than extra income.

  • I’ve come to realize and be grateful for my college years over the past 4 months. I knew that when I went to college I was not going for the degree itself (the degree was kind of just like icing on the cake… kind of). I wanted the experience, and I got it. I didn’t realize I had more life experience from going to college until meeting my newest roommate who just graduated from high school in Germany.
  • Some people have only ever eaten carbs and sweets for 20 years of their life and you somehow have to be okay with the idea of that and move on without judging them/their family/culture so hard.

    20 years…

  • Sometimes (hopefully this is only a L’Arche thing) you end up having to make 3 different meals… OR, you make an entire meal and at least 1-2 people pick it apart or say that they don’t want to eat it.

    I’ve learned that this kind of situation really irks me, and that I sometimes need to leave the room before dinner starts just to cool off… Which is actually hilarious because I was so picky growing up that I’m sure this is pay-back of some kind. I’m sorry, mom.

  • Expectations will kill you.

    So maybe they won’t literally, but I would advise shattering and tossing any expectation you have ever. There’s a quote that has become one of my favorites over time :

    “Expectation is the root of all heartache.”

    I think this is true for the most part. As I was sitting and reflecting today after the whole egg salad expectation failed me, I realized that my expectations may be to blame many times when I grow annoyed with another, or even myself. Today I was annoyed with myself for getting so upset to the point of bawling my eyes out after coming home to a lack of dinner on the table for the house. As I was crying I asked myself, “is this dumb?”, but I just kept on crying. I had expectations of myself (to not cry in such situations and not need a break when the going gets tough), and had come to this point because I had expectations of someone else as well. If you limit your expectations, I would think you would have less disappointment. Perhaps!

  • It is okay to step outside and breath. You need to take breaks when you feel like you are falling apart.

    After several minutes of crying I decided I needed a break. I pulled myself together and told Nicole I was going to leave for an hour, gave her advice on what to feed Lance and Sarah and was out the door. By leaving the situation I told myself that I was not running from my problems. I needed to escape for a little while, until I had fully calmed down (plus I had been working all day, and wanted an hour to myself and more God time). It can be hard to escape, when you feel like you can just push yourself and make it work. This is when you need to hit the brakes and calm yo-self. I have done it so many times. I think I can do it all, but then I crash: emotionally, mentally, and physically. We were not made to handle, control and assess everything, especially not all at once and without a break. Take a break. Take a deep breath, and let the world just pass by for a moment. You have time. 

  • Something else I have learned from having this position at L’Arche is what and how people think.

    I hear a lot of people say that it takes “a special person” to do this job, or that I must have a lot of patience, or they look at me like I’m some modern day Mother Theresa. None of that is true. I get angry, I cry, I need to take breaks and just breath for a couple of minutes (or an hour, like today) to gather my bearings and just go out and deal with everyday stuff, and I feel like a stay at home mom a lot of the time. I feel alone, and sometimes I lose my patience and have even collapsed to the ground in an adult-like temper tantrum (is that even a thing?) because I was lied to about a sucker… I suck. These past 3 months have taken me on a roller coaster, just like school did. I genuinely thought about quitting and have thought that this is not the job for me. I have had days where I question whether or not I love Sarah and anyone else in the house. (I definitely do.)

The thing that has gotten me through this journey so far the most is GOD. He deserves any and all of the glory that anyone is giving to me. I have not done anything. I accepted a position that I prayed the Lord would reveal to me, and it turned out to be the easiest choice to make, but one of the harder, but most fulfilling decisions I have made so far. I have decided to follow Jesus, and I pray each day for Him to reveal what is next. I pray for patience each day to respond in an appropriate manner and to prepare me to become a good and decent mother and wife someday if that is His good and perfect will. I am not perfect. Like I have said: I suck. God is what has helped me to be who I am today. He made me and He is what has strengthened me over time. I still have a loooonnnnnnnng way to go though. Stay tuned for that!

The Other Man (That Once Held My Heart)

I know you don’t like me talking about him, or living in the past, and definitely not comparing you to him. Well don’t worry, only all but the last will happen in this post.

(I may compare you to him in the good way though, if that’s alright with you; I have a feeling it is. Plus, I just had you read this over to see if it was okay to post, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it.)

To Start Off:
I hope that you don’t regret him breaking my heart, and causing me pain, (along with the breaking of my heart that I caused myself from this pain). I don’t regret it, as I’ve stated many times before. Want to know why? Of course you do, because you’ve made it this far, and you can’t stop your silly self from continuing.

To make a second start:
If I hadn’t gone through all that I had with him, through the nights where I sat alone in a dark room, with no replies from him, only to find out later he wasn’t in love with me anymore; if I hadn’t gone through the pain I endured and dragged myself through time and time again, I would have overlooked you.
I wouldn’t have known the goodness that comes with a man like you. I wouldn’t have wanted you the way I now know that I do.
I would have swiped and accepted another that was in the same life situation as he had been, just as I actually did more than a handful of times before meeting you. I wanted everything that I knew deep down was wrong for me. I knew that each boy I kissed after him was a mistake, and that I was being unfaithful to my future partner, with each individual selfish touch. I knew all of that and more, but the thrill of it and the deep, drawn out emotion I felt from each experience led me to press on in the crooked direction.
I hope that you don’t regret him, because without him shattering the idea of what I thought I was looking for, I would not be in your arms, with you speaking The Word to me, rather than me just speaking it to myself, attempting to trust in my own faith and what it means to me, or if it is worth it.

To Somewhat Tie All of That Together:
I told you that I probably won’t be the one to break up with you, if things go south, to the point where we both cannot, even with the power of Christ, fix our relationship and it’s sin or unmatchable nature. I know this because I wouldn’t break up with him, regardless of all of the detrimental signs he was giving me, and I was giving myself, but I made excuses. I didn’t want to quit, or give up, as I had thought abandoning a relationship would mean. And who would want to break up with their first, and whom they assumed was their last and only fiancé? I had only pictured one in all of my childhood dreams. I don’t think any little girl predicts they will wear two different rings from two different men, or perhaps one and then never have the promise of “till death do us part”. I try to stick things out, and I am as faithful as I can try to be within this human condition. I will not want to give up, even on days that I feel are “off” or where we long to fall asleep not talking, but will eventually do our best to talk through the conflict laid before us that day.

To Perhaps Conclude:
I am thankful towards my past and first love, because he brought me to you, and that is wonderful. He changed my perspective enough for me to realize I deserved better, and that better was never going to be his future self, as I had hoped it would be for more than a year after our relationship had ended. I am so happy and grateful that I had sinned so much to the point where Jesus allowed me so many more chances, and then placed you into the mix (as twisted as that sounds).
I have not felt guilty for our relationship. I don’t believe I ever will need to either. I am lucky to have loved and lost, and to have been brought a new love out of my sin, lust, and wrongful decisions.

Introducing Ye Dorks of KC:

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For Nate,

It happened tonight: the elbow touching moment.

I never imagined it would be so effortless and fulfilling, you next to me, talking about whatever it was you were talking about… I’m not sure because all I could think about was your arm (not even skin, but your shirt, against mine) in contact with my own. Sure, we held hands before (three times), but this was something new. Something I hope continues to happen. I would love for us to sit next to each other countless times after tonight. I may miss your elbow if we never sit next to each other again.

Remember when I told you that I was trying not to fall in love with you? I don’t think you could forget, I typed it out to you, and I know that you’ve read it more since I gave you that sheet of paper that I stuttered out to you the first time you heard it. I told you that I was beginning to fall, but that I wanted to guard my heart first and foremost. I haven’t told you how I’ve felt since that day over spring break.

Would you like to know?

I have slipped up. Gracefully this time. Oh, so gracefully. I haven’t stumbled, because God has been on my side from the start this time. I was resentful towards men, and mankind and many thousands of aspects of life when I met whom I later on thought to be “the one”. However, now I know: there is no “one”. We meet someone, and we make it work. (Yet, that’s not relatively close to how it works, because it involves many more words and phrases such as, “fight”, “commit to”, “trust”, “lean on”, and “grow together”.) But this time is different. Just as any other “first time”, it will be different, but this is a good different, that I am so satisfied with. I am so grateful, and must place the word “so” as a means to try and explain just how much I feel this way.

It would take me a long time (book-writing-time worthy) to put into words how all of this has curated in my mind to be exactly as it is now.

But I will try to put it into words what I feel now, in this moment, after our 8th date, this time a double date, with the best duo sitting before us.

Here is what I want you to know:

I am lucky. I have not felt the pang of missing you yet, and that is a blessing in and of itself. I do not like missing people, and it is a rarity for me. I like that I have not missed you yet, and I actually hope that I do not begin to, or that it is a much delayed response. I like the lack of the feeling because it means that I do not rely on you for any part of my happiness. It means that I have started a life for myself, and that I can be completely okay on my own, with God as my steady provider. I am so filled with love for myself now, and it is a love that was absent before. I am free from so many things, and I now know that I do not need another being in my life to have a lasting happiness, or smile on my face during the inexhaustible trials in life.

If I don’t miss you in the future, I may long for you to be by my side. This I am okay with. I think it is different  than missing someone. I think you can want someone and not need them. I know that if you were to leave, I will be okay, and I will grow from the experience. I have gone through the storm and came out on the other end. I developed and grew stronger in my faith. I may have been single as a result of my challenge, but discovered a deeper relationship with Christ instead, and that is partially why I will never regret what I had and then did not have with Curtis. I cannot regret, or even be ashamed of what was during that time of my life, because it brought me here, and now I have a story to tell that I did not before. That story brought me closer to you, Nate.

Perhaps we have been very direct through indirect communication, but we are writers. We are artists, and we must say what we feel when we feel it, because if we didn’t, a part of us would die in some way.

(I honestly feel like I haven’t even told you what it is that I have wanted to tell you.)

The night you told me about your demons, and I told you about mine, was the night that I felt closest to you. That night, we held hands for the first time. On our fifth date. You brave soul. You told me, you confessed to me rather, all the things that you feared I would judge you for, when in fact, it diminished a barrier that was present. As you told me your past sins, and the dark clouds that you continue to work on, I felt a shift, and felt more comfortable than I already had been around you. I want to thank you for opening up to me, and bearing the anxiety that went along with that.

I also want to thank you for being honest, for feeding me, for sharing stories, answering questions, taking multiple walks with me, driving around with me, asking me and telling me before holding my hand, for holding my hand again, for showing me Christ’s love, inviting me to hang out with your friends, visiting me at work, making me coffee, going to an oil change for our first date, waiting on “the edge of your seat” for any story that is taking me  a little longer to tell than usual (which is long), for inspiring and motivating me, for the way I know you will challenge me in the future, for dealing with my endless array of run-on sentences, for praying for me and with me (*), for making me feel safe, and cared for, and anxious free for at least a little while, and

 

for giving me the elbow moment.

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♡ The Mackenzie Diaries