The Riot in My Heart Decides to Keep Me Open and Alive

I don't know which is worse: watching something new that breaks my heart, or listening to something old that does the same thing.

Eleven more days and I am home. I don't want this to turn into a countdown because that is not what it is meant to be. I know I will miss this and want this and wish I had done things differently once it is over, but for now I long for the same old: my bed, my shower, my own food and my own life. I miss alone time.

We passed endless streams of perfectly calm lakes on our trip today. The water was completely still, but on it raged the cloud and sunset sky, and acres of perfect pointing pines. That is exactly how I feel. If you look for water, you see the flatness and smoothness of nothing wrinkling the surface; if you look at what it is reflecting, you see something entirely different.

Another hotel tonight, and then onward. It seems mundane, but there is something growing inside me that I cannot explain. On the surface it is invisible; from another angle, it is breath-taking. When it grows to fullness...words fail.

Drowning in My Own Reflection

Today I got front row tickets to someone else's heart-wrenching pain. She took me through hours of monologue; memories of the last month that she can't shake were suddenly more important than anything else. She is 17 and has just learned that guys will lie about love to get what they want.

She lasted longer than I did. I got my first boyfriend at 15 and, four days into our "relationship," he professed his love to me at the public swimming pool. Despite my incredulous laughter, he said that with love in mind we should have sex. Then I really laughed. We broke up later that day. Shocker. The lesson I learned that I'd always figured but never had solid proof of: men lie about love.

This happens for one of two reasons:

1. They're lying to themselves, deranged enough to think they love me despite not knowing all my pleasant niceties or pitiful faults, which are both essential before such a declaration. You either love all of me or none of me at all; therefore, if you do not know all of me, you cannot love me.
2. They're lying to me and they know it because they think it will get them what they want. Ugh.

She's 17 and hurting because she thinks she broke this guy's heart. A week later he already had a different girlfriend. And she's broken and I understand and there's nothing I can do to help, despite my huge amount of experience. It makes all my heartache feel useless.

She is a slightly more sane, less messy reflection of me. I wish I had something better to say. I wish I could help her before she turns into me.

Burn, Baby, Burn

I am officially burnt out.

Today I finally lost it. Something, a nothing, went wrong and I just collapsed and cried. Every lost minute of sleep and each setback and argument and heartache of the summer finally caught up with me and I just couldn't breathe anymore. Part of this has to be that I cannot see an ending to the madness. My internship ends Monday, and then I work pretty much every day til school starts, which ushers in a life packed with too much school, a lot of church and (if I'm lucky) two jobs. There is no end in sight until Christmas, and I don't know if my body and emotions can take it.

Everything I committed myself to suddenly feels like a burden rather than the joy it started out as. I want that back, but right now every part of me is just...exhausted. I need a vacation, and I don't think that is ever going to happen.

Tomorrow is a day as busy as all the rest, and I'm already dreading trying to just make it though. Thankfully God is strong for me when I am weak, because right now I need him just to get out of bed in the morning.

God, I'm going to need You through this because I cannot make it on my own.

Pining Suits Me About as Well as Oaking, Hemlocking or Aldering

Ah, Gilmore Girls, and everything you always teach me. Just when I think I can handle the world on my own, you step in and save the day. Just when I begin to imagine that I am encountering a situation you have not, you prove me wrong yet again. And just when I believe I am all alone and no one understands, you come through for me.

Since approximately 25 days ago, my mom and I have devoured three seasons. Tonight was the finale, and anyone who knows anything knows what the season three finale means. It's what we all knew would happen, deep down, but we always wished we could keep at bay. Even now, on my third time through, I still hope that my fruitless yearning for things to remain the same will prevail. But of course, every time, I am hopelessly disappointed...even though I knew it was coming all along.

Last night I dreamt about packing up at school and leaving...again. I woke up sad and nostalgic and feeling like I'll never quite be able to let go of this year, despite my most ardent efforts. I'm trying, I promise. Every morning I remind myself that there is no going back and that dwelling in the past will only hurt me more in the long run and waste this summer. So what in the world am I doing blogging about things I can't change?

Well, here's the thing. I'm hopelessly addicted to pining (pining, as in holding onto the past, not pinning...being addicted to safety-pinning things together would only lead to people further questioning my sanity). I love to waste away the days remembering, but it only damages my heart. That's why I never scrapbook; I mean well and I try, but I always get caught up and need to stop.

Rory said it best: "I'm not going to pine over you. You didn't think I would, did you? Because I'm not. I'm moving on and that's it." She is a lot braver than I am. but I'm going to steal a little bit of that courage and stifle how difficult this is.

I am not pining over you. Any of you. Not over this year, not over friendships or relationships or roadtrips or timmies trips or anything else. I loved it, I'll always miss it, but that is where it stops. I'm so sick of being heartsick and it stops here.

That felt really good to say.