Wal-Mart Has Comforters, Right?

I’ve suffered a recent heart injury, metaphorically speaking. I met someone and, like always, fell too hard too fast, and, like always, those feelings weren’t reciprocated. So, I’m crushed. And as I cycle through the stages of grief (I have six, by the way: the denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance stages, and the endlessly-tormenting-myself-with-unanswerable-questions-and-what-if-scenarios-until-I-drive-myself-mad-and-get-two-hours-of-sleep-if-I’m-lucky stage), I realize something. This is the first real heartache I’ve had without God.

I’ve always been the type to dig in, face my emotional problems head-on, and struggle to pull myself out of them. Sounds really tough and self-reliant, but I had a secret weapon. God was there to help me. He’d wrap His big, fatherly arms around me and comfort me. I could tell Him my troubles, and I knew there was a grand design that I was playing out with my pain.

But now that I’ve lost my faith, I have one more hurdle to jump when dealing with grief. I am alone. Truly alone. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have friends and family I can lean on, and I thank God (I know, I know) for them. Inside, however, I’m alone now. I have nothing but myself to use when I need to steel myself up and rebuild my heart.

So, along with re-defining my values, beliefs, and notions about the fabric of reality, I now have to re-learn how to feel. One of my basic coping mechanisms has been removed, making something as normal and human as sadness even more crippling and insurmountable.

I sure wish I still believed. I could use a god about now.

P.S. What the hell does “we’re too similar to be more-than-friends” mean? What, we have too much in common? We get along too well? Even God was never able to help me with logic like that.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 7, 2009 at 06:57 and is filed under Love Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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