For My Heart of Hearts

I am someone who can quickly become insecure about whether or not I'm loved by someone. Panic sets in. What are likely irrational thoughts swirl through my mind in a stormy vortex. It is a place I don't want to revisit, but my memory returns me to at the slightest familiarity.

It's not unlike when I was 17 years old, I was in a car accident. It was my first car, and I loved that car. I was driving through a green light, where someone was turning right onto the road I was on, but rolled through the light and turned out wide just as I was passing through the intersection. I saw it happening, but was in slight denial. The comparatively-gigantic, teal Chevy suburban annihilated the front right fender of my tiny '91 Mitsubishi Galant, leaving me with a flat and totaling it. Most who know me well would say I'm a confident driver, but still over seven years later, I flinch and hesitate when someone takes a right turn into the lane next to me.

Everyone will say they love deep; I say I love deep. I love deep within my many limitations. I am the kind of person who when I say I'd do anything, I really would. There have been times in my life where deep love has withstood the pressures of great intimidation. (I say this not to brag, but to help make a point; bear with me.) When I love someone, I want to make sure they know it. Those closest to me are the people I'd do anything for, and I'd like to think they typically know who they are.

One of the hard lessons I have learned in my yet-young life is that of rescinded love. That is love that was once there, though only seen in hindsight as shallow, suddenly dissolved. When it happens to you, it's earth-shattering; reality altering, truly, because love felt so secure. The overwhelming sense of admiration for another person. The place where differences aren't disparities at all, rather glowing elements of near magic that you awe at. You can't imagine life without them if you tried, because it puts a knot in your stomach.

And it happened.

Even having recently received all the answers, it was inexplicable. My heart never hurt so bad. The thought of the pain now, makes my eyes well-up. I can sincerely say, nothing else has hurt like this; to have someone I loved walk away without reason or word, or seemingly care. I have acknowledged it, - do acknowledge it, but the mark this left on my life seems unshakable. I carry that with me into every friendship I have; every relationship in which I deeply invest.

I believe love means never finding a reason good enough to throw in the towel. Some may think that's naive, but it's not. I wish I could go back and live that out, when in times past I've failed to because my experience conditioned me to, and I adapted...whether or not it was right.

Someone recently told me they thought that everyone should get fired once, - spoken like a true person who's probably never been fired, because it's awful. You spend some time wallowing in self-pity, then in the next job you miraculously manage to land, the time that isn't specifically spent doing your job, is spent wondering if you'll get yourself fired.

Having your heart broken teaches you some things that take some unlearning, - like to be afraid of loving deeply because it might get you hurt - but it also teaches you through experience how not to love poorly. This has been a five year lesson for me, and it still aches; it's still awful, sometimes. It also helps me not to give up on the ones I love, because I know how terribly it hurts to be given up on. I strive not to let my love be so weak.

The Baggage We Carry & Intentionality

Relationships are tricky. Supposedly there is a science to them, but they're so unpredictable. They affect who we are. There's nature, and there's nurture. There's some ambiguous time called "The Formative Years" that people will refer to, - whoever knows what that even means - but I think it's a lot longer than it implies...that's a whole other animal.

Relationships. We cannot do without them, and they alter us for better or worse. This is an arena I can speak to only from my own experience. I've always been someone who craves relationship (okay, yeah, who doesn't?), and it's taken me a long time to realize where I have been unhealthy about it. And because relationships are always in the forefront of my mind and generally a facet of life, I have been thinking lately about how ones in my past have affected the me of the present. There are two in particular that have been on my mind.

I will start with the one I messed up. I had this friendship that, if it were still on-going, would be my longest friendship. There's something that when you're immature, you can't appreciate about a lifelong friendship. I have been mourning this relationship again as I near two years that it's been gone. I thrive when I'm known well by a handful of close friends, and conversely I tend to suffer when I feel like I'm not known well by a handful of close friends. Thinking about that, brought thoughts of this relationship back to me. I recently reached a heart-breaking conclusion about the demise of this friendship: I failed. When it happened, and for so long after, (and if I'm honest, still from time to time) I thought I was justified in throwing my hands up and walking away. The truth is that I didn't have enough grace. I didn't want to keep letting my hurt go, so I ran with it. I am officially done letting any part of myself believe that I didn't have a role in things.

Such a realization has helped me. It's humbled me; it does humble me. Granted I carry the predisposition that asking to be treated well may result in another severed friendship, it's taught me to tread those waters lightly. It's taught me that losing someone altogether is a lot worse than struggling to find patience and grace. Among many other things.

I guess I can't say that I didn't mess the other one up either. I had this good friend in high school, two good friends; a guy and a girl, who dated at the time. We were like Three's Company - except I don't think that was ever a love triangle. Anyway, we were all three best friends, one of us a little more...difficult to tolerate than the other two. *Ahem*! I don't want to sound like I'm justifying myself or my actions, but we clicked. Being a naive 16-year-old, I continued having hours-long phone conversations and hanging out late at night with him, letting him try to learn my favorite songs on the guitar - unwilling to acknowledge, or maybe blind to the fact that I was walking into a world of hurt. It wasn't fair to me, but I wasn't wise. I got my heart all tangled up, in a way that an older, wiser me is all too aware was incredibly stupid. One day, I called. They had a talk and were going to be serious about making their relationship work. Cue heartache.

Everything about it had seemed perfect, save for the fact that someone else was his girlfriend...

Ever since, I've been gun-shy. I sit somewhere in wanting most of what that relationship was, and viewing nearly every relationship with a guy through the muddied lens of that one. Pieces of how it affected me only occur to me now. And I'm sure more will come out if ever I do bother with a romantic relationship.

These are just two of the experiences that have marked me. Everyone carries their own experiences, hundreds of them. Some big ones whose impressions take some serious undoing, and some smaller ones that only scrape our surface or buff our hard edges. Thinking about my experiences in relationships on all levels makes me constantly think about the places I have impact and what I choose to do with that.

They have me thinking about the weight and importance of intentionality in relationship. I can do what feels the best or the easiest, or I can intentionally make a choice to do relationship well. We can either constantly live under the weight of our baggage, or we can learn from it and walk forward with intentionality into better, life-giving relationship. A lesson I'm sure I will endlessly learn.