"Cause I"m so scared of being alone
that I forgot what house I live in;
that it's not my job to wait by the phone
for [him] to call." [Caedmon's Call, "Table for Two"]
And it isn't my job. In fact, the only real job I've ever had was that of a "priest and a prince[ss]" in the kingdom of God.
It's funny - in a way that isn't actually funny at all - how we can fall into sin when we think we're still seeking God. And how he commands certain things of us not only so that we glorify Him in our obedience but so that we're protected from heartbreak.
I never thought that I would be the girl with the love story that ended badly. I always thought - and my family did, too - that, considering my lack of a dating history, my first real relationship would also be my last. That it would be my husband. That it would be my happily ever after.
But it wasn't. I hoped that it would end that way. I had little fantasies that maybe...someday...that's how we would be. That somehow, the religious difference would go away, that in two years, when our respective commitments were done, we would end up in the same place. That we would get married. He spoke of it as though it were a possibility someday.
I later found out that he never really saw a viable future for us. I found out that I was giving him things that I shouldn't have. I found out that I was giving away pieces of my heart that I still haven't recovered. I found out that I was hiding my feelings about certain things from him so that he would love me more.
Our relationship was born out of hurt, really. "Born to uncertainty, destined for pain," I suppose. If not in the same fashion as the characters we played onstage, certainly in a similar vein.
Maybe that's how their story really ends. Forced apart, kept from returning to one another, they wait. They hurt. At least, she does. Perhaps, in his anger, his hurt goes away quickly. They regret. She considers all that she gave him only to get brokenness in return. She thinks of the other women he has loved in the past and will certainly love in the future. She wonders whether her tears will ever dry.
"A word or two, and then
a lifetime of not knowing where or how or why or when.
You'll think of me; or speak of me;
and wonder what befell that someone you once loved so long ago so well."
It's funny - in a way that isn't actually funny at all - how we can fall into sin when we think we're still seeking God. And how he commands certain things of us not only so that we glorify Him in our obedience but so that we're protected from heartbreak.
I never thought that I would be the girl with the love story that ended badly. I always thought - and my family did, too - that, considering my lack of a dating history, my first real relationship would also be my last. That it would be my husband. That it would be my happily ever after.
But it wasn't. I hoped that it would end that way. I had little fantasies that maybe...someday...that's how we would be. That somehow, the religious difference would go away, that in two years, when our respective commitments were done, we would end up in the same place. That we would get married. He spoke of it as though it were a possibility someday.
I later found out that he never really saw a viable future for us. I found out that I was giving him things that I shouldn't have. I found out that I was giving away pieces of my heart that I still haven't recovered. I found out that I was hiding my feelings about certain things from him so that he would love me more.
Our relationship was born out of hurt, really. "Born to uncertainty, destined for pain," I suppose. If not in the same fashion as the characters we played onstage, certainly in a similar vein.
Maybe that's how their story really ends. Forced apart, kept from returning to one another, they wait. They hurt. At least, she does. Perhaps, in his anger, his hurt goes away quickly. They regret. She considers all that she gave him only to get brokenness in return. She thinks of the other women he has loved in the past and will certainly love in the future. She wonders whether her tears will ever dry.
"A word or two, and then
a lifetime of not knowing where or how or why or when.
You'll think of me; or speak of me;
and wonder what befell that someone you once loved so long ago so well."
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