I don't even think I can do myself justice right now.
So many thoughts swirling about right now.
"When you're fighting to believe in a love that you can't see. Just know there is a purpose for those who wait." --Fireflight
This can't possibly turn into one of those blogs by a girl that is all about guys or is all about wanting to be married or wanting to not be single. It can't turn into that. Yeah, it can't.
But I've gotta get this out. Get some of it out. It can no longer just be festering inside of me...wishing at all hours of the night that I could just sit down and write it all out. Cry it all out. How do I paint this picture enough for a bleeding heart to see it and start to release it? It's like my heart is saying "Paint this so I can see it and no longer bear it."
Junior high, high school, college....all a blur of guy after guy taking my attention. I allowed my mind to paint pictures and hang them on imaginary walls in an imaginary house that I would share with each guy until they walked out. Looking back, none of them were right. Most would say, "They weren't good enough for you, Candace." What does that even mean? That because I have different goals, different intentions, etc. that I am better than they? Hmmm...whatever. They weren't a soul that could link to mine and survive. I know THAT, at least. But, I contented myself in true head-in-the-clouds fashion to create worlds in my mind that involved them in my future. I dreamt of romance and pursuit and happily-ever-after. I secluded my flesh and blood for them, but let my mind wander free without saving it for my future... Honestly though, none were too hard to forget. I've never been in love. Never needed more than a little time to "get over" any guy.
Until now.
What is habit now and what was/is real? What is past tense and what is present tense? Who is this guy? Who was he a year ago? Who will he be a year from now? Who is he now? Gosh. He has no title. Title withheld. Purposely.
If I had to paint a picture of my perfect guy, he would fit some of it. He would fit a lot of it, actually. But, I will not allow myself to romanticize that he is everything I've ever wanted. ((Is that even available...)) Sensitive. Observant. Kind. Pure. Fun. ....Clingy....eek.
It wasn't his constant attention that drew me in. Honestly. I am not so easily suckered. I may have not had much "daddy" approval, but I am too stubborn to ever be "caught" by mere attention. I am loud. I always get lots of attention. I am funny..witty. No, it was HIM. Everything I found out about him intrigued me. Old stories. Watching him handle different situations. I was just fascinated. I was sure that I was looking at a boy that would fall easily for me and that I'd have to keep at bay. I remember shrugging my shoulders when asked what was going on with us two. Shrugging my shoulders with disdain, mind you. There was always an accompanying eye-roll. Something pressed my insides and told me to watch out for this little sneak. But I would turn my phone on silent in order that his constant phone calls couldn't interrupt my sleep and I knew that I was in control of this situation. I didn't need him. In fact, it was he who hung on my every word, my every affirmation, every move... It clearly was about time that somebody realized just how I really did know everything and how I was the authority on how to BE...let him follow. Let him cling. I would toss him my scrap time.
But, then there was that one phone call. There was that text message. There was that way he looked at me with something mischievous in those eyes I had never really looked into. I still wonder how much truth was in those eyes when I first really looked into them.
I wonder why everything changed that one day. In the morning, I started to get uneasy about how I felt a little more like he belonged to me. Then, by that night, I wanted to belong to him for the first time. ....Ok, not the first time I had ever felt that... but the first time I thought it could actually happen. I mean, after all...I have been alone my whole life. That night, he told me I would be his.
Fast forward a couple days...as he holds his breath while I speak. I see him struggling to remain composed...to not let his eyes betray him. I could almost hear him promise himself that if he didn't breathe, then he wouldn't cry. I still felt in control. He was crying. I didn't cry. I didn't budge. I said nice words. I gave a good hug. I promised to keep in contact. And, then with an awkward, "friendly" I-love-you...he was gone. The eyes never lost the sorrow as he waved good-bye. I ignored the pain gnawing at my heart...how could I be sad? This little BOY didn't really get under my skin. Surely, I couldn't admit to anyone that I actually had feelings for him. I would just mask my need for affirmation under the guise of complaints about his contant attention and hope that someone would laugh and say, "Oh my God! He so likes you, Candace!" I would chuckle and revert back to my shrug and roll my eyes...What was I going to do?
Phone call. "To think i might not see those eyes makes it so hard not to cry. And as we say our long goodbye, I nearly do..."
Text messages. Phone calls. Stupid facebook comments about Dutch Bros.
Birthday. "If I asked your dad to pursue your heart..."
Constant phone calls.
"Well, how DO you feel?...."
My birthday. Text messages from all his friends. Two phone calls. Singing happy birthday. A big package in the mail full of "princess" stuff.
Heart constricts as I hear, "He said that he doesn't have feelings for you, but he really respects you..."
Stop. That's where it stopped.
That's where I no longer felt carefree and starting to feel like a young person that could fall...in......?love? I no longer felt desired and pursued and valued. I felt stung. Like those same eyes that I used to look into were not the same anymore and those eyes had lied to me. Those eyes were no longer safe. Those eyes were no longer beautiful to me. Those eyes would pay. They would never again look into mine and see softness and openness. Never again.
I thought I got over it. Phone calls continued. He toyed with me about his return...all the way until that day when I got a picture message when I had just clocked into work...I couldn't lie that my heart had been struggling to make it through those last couple weeks waiting for him to come back. So many months...or, actually, only a few -- but even a day was too much for me to handle. A legless deity stood in front of my license plate and I gasped and my heart constricted to where my whole body went numb for a good 5 seconds. My first thought, "I didn't wear make up to work and I knew I should have!" I am pretty sure I started to slightly shake with anticipation and forced myself to remain calm and composed. Remember...he doesn't even like you. I walk run down the aisle holding the trash and almost run into him. I drop the trash and just stare at him. He looked thinner. His face looked different. We didn't hug. I playfully punched him in the arm and reminded him that I had told him he couldn't come up to my job because I couldn't even stop and....just take him in.
"CANDACE!...What's your favorite color?" I just closed my eyes, you idiot.
He started ill at ease. As I spoke word after accusatory word, he seemed to sink into the corner of the couch. The blanket across his lap slowly crept up to cover most of his face. I don't even remember seeing more than his eyes. Those eyes. I dared him to tell me the truth. My spirit prompted him to just scream it: I LIKE YOU! Let's make something beautiful here.
Gabriel St. No. I tried to make my tone as flat as possible. I didn't want my heart to tell on me and put my heart laid out in my voice. He turned and faced the opposite window and quietly said, "No, I don't have feelings for you either." He never looked at me. I don't remember who spoke next. It was probably me. Because he still wouldn't look at me. I remember the jumpy feeling...Could I possibly have made you believe me? Could I get away unscathed in the limelight of deception that you would hopefully buy as my truth? Then, I just wanted it to be over and done and back to "normal"...back to when we were together all the time. Comfortable. Important. But, let me be in control again. in control of myself...
"But I want to know everything about you." I can't remember anyone ever telling me that before. I want you to know everything and I want you to want me. I wanted desperately to save face in front of all my friends...and in front of him if he were to ever guess. or wonder. We can't do that. You don't get to know me like that...it's too intimate for "just friends." It was a brilliant ruse. Because I got to say the right thing...but we got to sit on the counters of his apartment and trade "daddy" stories. We laid our vulnerability out between us. We made our sorrows inside jokes. I imagined him as a little boy...impossibly hurt. How could his dad hurt the dark-haired boy with innocent eyes? How could his dad impail this hero-in-training and make him a boy in a man's body -- unable to break habits up to this point? Unable to want to feel anything that hurt...
Lies. Distance. Silent treatment. Christmas.
"It's prophetic." I unwrapped the huge present with a sapphire ribbon. His face waited to see what I thought.
He called me twice over his 2.5 week vacation. Texted some. So different from his last extended absence. My heart beat a little different for the first 2 weeks of 2010.
Michigan. Valentine's Day...my best friend gets engaged as a I sit on the runway of the airport in his home state. He calls me and I hear his voice and ignore the implications of the day.
"They said your intimacy level can't exceed your commitment level. What is our commitment level?" None.
"I hope you never leave."
"What makes you happy?"
England. Skype. Facebook.
Shiny Easter eggs. Reese's. No words.
Lies.
"I NEVER want to walk away from you, Candace."
5 hour talk in front of Yak's. I said so much I didn't mean. I was trying to hurt him. I was trying to regain the control I had lost...8 months before. I think he might have cried. He said he was angry. But that's not the emotion that I felt...at least not the main one. It was this crushing let-down. Suffocating heaviness.
That's so stupid! LAME!
I'm not sure how I feel about that. Can we just see how it goes for awhile?
"Let's talk again at the New Year...we'll seal it with a kiss."
Graduation.
2 weeks.
"I don't want you in my inner intimacy circle. This "close friends" thing isn't working out for me."
Puke. Freedom.
Birthday. Fun. Take it back, please.
"We are close friends. But I still need some space. You didn't DO anything. I just need to work through some stuff ABOUT you."
Will it be like this forever? *laughs* "No!"
I don't understand. Why do I feel like I am being punished? Why do I not know if you care? Why do I not know where I stand with you? What do I mean to you? What have I meant to you? You used to hang on my every word. Pretty much my every move. Why can't my words change THIS? I don't want this. I don't want "space."
Tentative phone calls. Tentative texts.
There's something different here.
Is something new blossoming?
It it good?
Will it last?
Who.am.i.to.you.
who.are.you.to.me.
Stares at a blinking cursor of her computer screen -- wondering how this story ends...
Because you see,I've never felt like this before. I've never thought maybe I could ACTUALLY marry this person. Maybe I could ACTUALLY share my life with this person and be completely known and loved....be a part of his family. Create a family. Change the world. Watch him grow and my claim to him would be real and legit. Then, all the things he remembers....all the little times we touch and spark....could mean something. It could mean what I've saved was worth it if it was to wait for you and SHOW you just how important you are.
And, now, if it's not you -- can this painting ever be destroyed?
And, now, if it's not you -- if it's not the right painting...not the beautiful love story God craftifully, delicately wrote to me, His princess... what does your painting look like? Is it even on the wall of my future? Is it big, vibrant, and in the main room...is it in the attic...
and, also imporant...where do YOU want your painting to be?
I'm not going anywhere.
Run.
