I Will Laugh Again

I haven't written in a while and I think I just didn't really know what to say. The past few months have been filled with change, anxiety, sadness, excitement, and a lot of goodbyes.

Sometimes all of those things in the same day and even the same second if you would believe that.

Once we moved from The Station it was as if "goodbye" just became normal. And not even a "goodbye I'll see you tomorrow." They were goodbyes where friends moved back home, or to a different state.

I said goodbye to levels of friendship because we no longer had schedules that lined up and we couldn't hangout all the time.

I said goodbye to a dream I didn't even realize was a dream until it was over. Or paused.

I said goodbye to the most annoying yet most beautiful place to live ever. And it kills me to drive past it.

I held myself together for almost two months after we moved. I didn't cry. I didn't even think about it. I went about my business telling myself I was fine. It was fine. Everything is fine.

I guess pushing things down or away doesn't REALLY help. It just postpones the inevitable breakdown. It just shoves away the healthy reactions and they build up until one day you can't keep a lid on top anymore.

Honestly, I can't keep a lid on it anymore. I didn't take the time to let my feelings out as they came, and now I cry at anything. I think about the camp and I cry. I think about my mom and I cry. I think about being in Mammoth and I cry. Honestly ANYTHING.

And then I get annoyed at myself for crying. And then I cry more.

This may be one of the most vulnerable posts I have written. And I'm not even entirely sure if it's helpful. It's just what is.

I don't have answers, I just have the process and I have to keep moving. Because that's the only way to get through it.

I have to be okay with the fact that I cry every day. As long as I'm getting it out eventually it has to stop (fingers crossed). I have to be okay with where I am but I also need to have hope for where I am going and be okay with the actions I need to take to get there. Even if they are actions I never thought I would have to take.

It may take a good while, but there is a time for everything.

"a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance" Ecc 3:4.

I just need to keep moving. I need to keep pushing through, because one day I will laugh again.

In My Own Head

Two Weeks ago I wrote a blog post about getting to know people and it being extremely hard for me to say goodbye to those people. Last night I had a bit of an emotional episode.

This summer, friends have come back to work at The Station. People that I truly care about and quite honestly I feel as though I was just holding my breath waiting for them to come back.

For some reason I have allowed this future goodbye make me fall apart.

At every point where I am shut out or cut off from community and hanging out with people I feel a little twinge in my heart. Another opportunity to grow closer, missed.

I think that because I decided to open my heart to people and get to know them, my heart feels extremely exposed. It's like I went from feeling scared to open up, to being scared that I'm not opening up enough and I'm going to say goodbye to these amazing individuals again and it's going to ruin me.

I got in my head.

I allowed my mind to tell me that there isn't enough time.

I've allowed my own season coming to an end make me feel as though everything is.

It's as though I spoke out that I wanted to open up to people and get to know them even if goodbyes are hard, and then I'm faced with another huge goodbye that is going to suck.

A goodbye to friends. A goodbye to summer. A possible last summer at The Station. And a possible last summer in Mammoth. A possible goodbye to my home.

But if I start breaking down now, I can't have my last experience.

I can't live in the moment if I'm thinking of the last one we'll have.

So I need to stop.

Somehow.

I need to stop getting into my own head.

Hard Goodbyes

A couple of weeks ago, we had a ministry meeting at the camp. This meeting included the two staff members, the three guys living with us, and my boss and her family.

It was an amazing time of our fearless leader opening up about her crazy awesome testimony to three guys who don't necessarily believe in God.

Once the sharing time was over, she had us all go around in a circle and say what we liked about each other. (Undercover prophetic words if you will).

When it came to my turn for everyone to tell me what they liked about me, it was all good stuff, but there was one thing that stayed on my heart and mind. There was a lot said about how people wished I had opened up more.

I brushed it off that night, but a couple of days later I brought it up to my friend Rachel. "I didn't realize that I was so closed off..." In a moment of full vulnerability and letting go of previously conceived thoughts about myself, I allowed my friend to speak words into my life.

There were a lot of tears, and a lot of things that were brought up that stung, but in the end I had gotten down to what the issue was.

I had been so conditioned by words, and judgment from my childhood, that I expected everyone I met to have judged me before I even spoke, and decide that I wasn't good enough. This is why when I meet people I don't necessarily open up right away, or sometimes even talk. I've been so scared of what people are going to think of me. I have hesitated with friendships or conversations because of a false judgment I put on myself.

"Oh well they'll think this..."

"They probably think that I'm..."

"They are too cool to talk to me..."

I doubt myself. I have lacked this confidence in who I am, since I was a little girl being called names on the playground.

So it shouldn't have been a surprise to me that these new guys felt as though I wasn't opening up. It's because I wasn't. I was hiding. I didn't want them to see me because I was scared the real me wasn't good enough.

After this conversation, I made a decision. I was going to open up to them, even if it was utterly terrifying.

And because of this I had an amazing last week and a half with them.

I even offered to drive them to San Francisco. I made a nine hour road trip with three guys I had only known a month, two of which didn't speak much english.

One of them actually became a huge encourager to me. He was honestly the hardest one to say goodbye to.

I hugged them all and I drove home.

As I drove, I started crying. These three guys had become part of a family in our house. Always there. Always joking around. I already missed them.

It was such a hard goodbye.

And yet, the only thing that I regret, was not opening up to them sooner.

Impacted

There have been very few times in my life where I have been fully encompassed by sadness to the point where I couldn't breathe. And by very few, I mean that there have been two times that I remember vividly. The first time was December 6th, 2014. I had been leading worship at my church since my graduation in May and I was working at a donut shop and living with five other girls.

I had gained so many good friends in those short six months. So many people who stood by my side when I started getting burnt out. People who helped talk me through my past and show me that none of what happened was my fault.

Those people impacted my life so much that leaving literally felt like each and every one of them were being ripped from my heart. I left for reasons that now seem completely ridiculous, but I'm glad I did it. I'm glad that I endured crying six hours straight on my drive to my parents house because that decision led me to another decision.

The decision to move to Mammoth.

And to my dismay become a part of another amazing group of friends who loved me so much I started to love myself. They loved me so much that I started gaining confidence, I started seeing my worth, I started seeing that I have power and authority. God showed me that, but he also surrounded me with people that were going to hold me to believing nothing less. One in particular.

Which brings me to the second time, last Monday. Multiple people left Mammoth to go off and do new things, or follow dreams, or go back to the UK. It was probably the most emotional day I've had since that last one. Once I said goodbye to my roommate Jesse it was like my heart was completely numb and done saying goodbye to amazing people that I love.

I cried all day. And a little bit into the night. But surprisingly enough on Tuesday I only cried once, and it was because my roommate started crying first and I'm a sympathy crier.

In the midst of all the sadness, and the missing pieces, I know that it's going to be okay. Because I know that it only hurts this bad because it was good.

If I had to say goodbye to people and feel no sadness at all, then what real friendship did I have with them?

The Hello and The In Between

When it all comes down to it, I guess the person I'm mad at the most is myself. I let my mind, and more stupidly my heart, go there. I checked onto a train going the opposite direction and left them to fend for themselves in the midst of your being.

I wrote off all reason and logic and let my heart really go with it.

I let my mind run with all the encouragements from outer sources, that the feelings of which my heart was taking on could be reciprocated.

I let my mind be changed by positive feedback.

I let my life be turned upside down by your heart.

I let everything that I held dear become nothing compared to being able to spend time with you and make memories that I would have years after you leave.

Stupidly, I allowed myself to really fall for you. Heart and mind.

So here I am. Opening at the coffeeshop after a night filled to the brim with tears and goodbye letters and hope that in some alternative universe you have feelings for me too and it would somehow all work out.

At least five thousand unlikely scenarios race through my mind as I think of the day I say goodbye to you and hand you the letter.

The one I luckily wrote on my phone first rather than paper, otherwise my tears would have made it unreadable.

I think of the best possible scenarios and those still don't seem to be good enough to will you to stay, or me decide to abandon any previous reservations from our differences in values.

It's crazy though, because I have seen it. I've seen the alternative universe. The one where our values collide. The one where you're passionate, but not about the same things.

There was this hope in your voice. This hope that something greater could and would answer your prayers.

I saw the fire around your heart as you prayed. It was new and fragile but as you prayed it grew. It grew and took over your whole body in some amazing fashion that was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

I saw you sitting in front of us all, asking God to be there with us. Asking God things I'm sure you've never asked him before.

Then I could see how your heart, paired with Christ's, was going to change the world like nothing anybody could have ever imagined.

Somewhere I read that it's okay to love someone who doesn't love you back, as long as they are worthy of it. As long as they deserve it.

You do.

I've got to be honest, I don't think we could find anyone who doesn't love you.

That's what makes it so hard. You make it really really...REALLY difficult to not love you.

I feel like you would have to try with such vigor to get me to not love you.

I know that it's different this time. I don't see you on this pedestal. I haven't lifted you up to something that you're not. I haven't fallen in love with the idea of you.

I can see flaws and some little things that I'm sure down the road would annoy me to no end. But I overlook them, because in all reality they don't matter. Because it's you.

Things that used to be a big deal for me have seemed to be just tiny differences in our thinking.

Somewhere along the way, in between me liking you and me trying not to like you and then me throwing caution to the wind and becoming fully head over chucks for you, I saw you. I saw your heart. I saw your dreams and passions and family.

I saw all these things that sometimes it hurts to know that I'll be forced to live without them. I'll be forced to say goodbye.

And like I said, the person I'm really mad at is myself. I'm the one to blame.

You took no part in it. You were just there, being yourself. And I was here becoming myself around you.

You sir, were a force of nature, and you came into my life and everything was drastically changed.

So yes I'm upset at myself. But I know that down the road I will never regret it. Any of it.

Getting to know you while secretly harboring feelings for you. Allowing you to be the catalyst that threw me into being myself. Trusting you with tough things, and you in turn completely blowing my mind by how trustworthy you really were.

I don't now, and will never regret these last six months. It was a whirlwind. It was something that swept me off my feet and made me believe that guys like you actually exist.

So I'm mad. But I am so much more thankful that I ended up here, and ended up meeting one of the most amazing men I have ever met.

Even if it had to end in goodbye, the hello and the in between were the most wonderful things I could have ever asked for.